#that's like telling a cat to just Tell you what it wants. man what are you expecting here hbfvhs

[ssa-dado]

Cat Equals Sign Of Integration

Aaron Hotchner x bau!fem!reader Genre: fluff, smut (implied) Summary: Aaron, ever the strategist, decides that a little wine might help soften the blow of figuring out with you how to tell the team you’re dating. A solid plan - except for one tiny flaw: wine makes him a whore. Warnings: +18, MINORS DNI Hotch is a touch starved whore, a few cuss words here and there, wine gets a bit into both of your heads. Word Count: 5k Dado's Corner: Did I hallucinate this while working on one of the many requests still on my to-do list, only to realize halfway through that it was completely derailing from the main plot - but too cute to abandon? Yes. Is this fun? You tell me (pretty please).

masterlist(s)

One of the many rules you and Aaron had in your relationship was that if you cooked for date night, he was the one doing the dishes.

His idea.

You had been opposed to it at first - not because you minded, of course. You were actually a huge fan of grown men handling household chores without whining like toddlers about how it might somehow demasculate their poor, fragile egos.

No, you were opposed because you didn’t want him doing it out of some sense of obligation.

It took you a while to accept that Aaron wasn’t doing this because he owed you - he was doing it because he wanted to.

Because that was just… Aaron.

Ever the caregiver, always looking for ways to make life easier for the people he loved. He could give you the world and still come to you like a wounded dog, begging for forgiveness because he thought he wasn’t enough.

It was infuriating - for all the deep psychological reasons you could analyze for hours, but also for a much pettier one: when it was his turn to cook, instead of letting you do the dishes like the so-called rule dictated, he just… did them anyway.

And thus, the noble Mr. Clean - brave warrior of dish duty, his arms submerged in treacherous, frothy depths - found himself utterly helpless against the sudden, most dreadful buzzing of his phone.

A cruel twist of fate, indeed!

Stranded, defenseless, bound by duty to his porcelain captors, he could do nothing but stand there, a tragic figure of great importance, cruelly denied his right to immediately bestow his undivided attention upon whatever poor soul dared summon him.

Oh, the agony! The injustice! How swiftly the mighty are humbled… by a sink full of bubbles.

That was because, logically, if even a single drop of water touched his phone, he would instantly lose all of the very important, highly classified FBI secrets stored inside. Of course, phones couldn't possibly be waterproof.

Ha, imagine?! What a concept.

“Who is it?” Aaron asked, still scrubbing at your wine glass like he was trying to erase its entire existence.

Which – by the way - was completely pointless, considering that in less than five minutes, he planned on refilling it with some more. A different wine, yes. But for God’s sake, you weren’t going to die if the last few drops of white mixed with the red.

…What a fussy man.

“Penelope,” you replied, admiring the view.

What a view, really. That man was all legs and no ass, and you were finally learning to appreciate it. 

“Ignore it,” he said, not even turning around.

Unfortunately for him - and for the HR department still blissfully unaware that their most serious, by-the-book boss was fraternizing with a subordinate - you were a profiler.

The U.S. government literally paid your bills every single month because you were exceptionally good at reading people.

And the way he answered? Yeah, that wasn’t the tone of a man casually dismissing an unimportant text. No, that was the tone of a man caught red-handed, scrambling for plausible deniability.

Embarrassed. Secretive. Suspicious. Frankly, if you didn’t already know what he was hiding, you’d be halfway to slapping cuffs on him. Wouldn’t even be the first time.

And so you read it – out loud.

Penelope Garcia, 7:56 PM:

hotch sir hotch bossman sir, i am DYING please tell me if you found out who her mystery boyfriend is i am suffering!!!!!!!! i know you know. i know it in my heart. if you can’t say it just give me a hint. a tiny one. a cryptic riddle. a blink. i will take anything.

^.ᆽ.^= ∫

By her, of course, she meant you - because despite a few months of keeping your relationship under wraps, you still hadn’t gotten around to telling the team. Your colleagues. Your friends. Your unwanted, overly nosy adopted children.

That their elusive "mystery boyfriend" was, in fact, your mutual boss.

You were going to tell them. Eventually.

Didn’t know when. But you would.

Then again, it wasn’t like you were surrounded by some of the best profilers in the country, trained to pick up on the slightest behavioral shift.

It’s not like the second two incredibly touch-starved people like you and Aaron started walking around with even a fraction of happiness, that wouldn’t immediately raise suspicions.

…Except, apparently, it hadn’t.

Because somehow, the team had only managed to land on half the conclusion: you were seeing someone.

But Aaron? Not even a blip on their radar.

It was almost impressive, really. The answer was so obvious that they had discarded it entirely, still wandering around in the dark, trying to piece together a puzzle that was sitting right in front of their faces.

Just like Penelope was doing now, so desperate for some reason that she was straight-up asking him outright - when not that long ago, she still thought twice before even making a dirty joke in his presence.

And so, you got up, walked over to Aaron, and held the phone directly under his nose. “What does this mean?”

He squinted at the screen, then at you. “Oh, honey, I don’t know. She always sends me that - I don’t understand what exactly equals the sign of integration”.

…What?

You were suddenly just as confused as he was.

He blinked at you, eyes wide, eyebrows raised in that utterly sincere, slightly bewildered way of his. “That sign before it,” he said, completely lost. “It looks Chinese. Thought you knew Chinese, sweetheart.”

…What?

Oh, for the love of God.

If this man hadn’t already seen the absolute worst horrors the world had to offer, you would fight for his innocence with your nails, your teeth, and - if absolutely necessary - one of the worst shooting records ever logged in the Bureau.

You looked at the screen again.

^.ᆽ.^= ∫

Oh.

Oh, that’s what had confused him.

“Aaron,” you said gently, doing your absolute best not to kiss him right then and there, “that is a cat.”

You sighed, then pointed at the message again. “By the way, the ‘sign’ in the middle is in Korean, not Chinese.”

He looked at the screen again - then back at you. “…Cat equals sign of integration?”

“No, honey,” you said, barely suppressing your smile, tapping the little text emoji. “It’s just a cat.”

He studied it for another second. “Oh.”

There. That did it. You gave in. Leaned in and pressed a loud smooch to his cheek.

At least your dignity was still intact - he had no idea why you’d done it, just assumed it was one of those spontaneous bursts of affection that came with being hopelessly in love.

Honeymoon phase truly did work wonders.

“Do you think I can have the cat too?” he asked, grabbing the bottle of red and a corkscrew.

That was a trap.

Because Aaron Hotchner still signed every single text he sent.

And while it wasn’t an issue when he was sending something standard -

Lawyer, 6:17 PM:

They found a new body, we’re gathering at the precinct in 30.

A.H.

- it became a lot more unsettling when he sent the filthiest, most depraved things you’d ever read, only to end them with that stiff little A.H. like he was dictating official Bureau correspondence.

Lawyer, 11:51 PM:

Sweetheart, if only these stupid walls weren’t so thin, I’d have you right here with me, bent over, face pressed against this mattress, making you come so many times you’d forget your own name. At least three. Maybe four, if I’m feeling generous.

A.H.

So now, standing in his kitchen, watching him pour wine like he hadn’t just permanently scarred you with his painfully bureaucratic approach to sexting, you knew that if you admitted he could simply copy-paste that ‘cat equals integration sign,’ it would only be a matter of time before you were subjected to something truly traumatizing, like -

Lawyer, very-late-office-hour PM:

It’s your fault I’m getting distracted with the paperwork, because I’m still thinking about how good you tasted last night while sitting on my face. God, I can still feel your thighs shaking, you were so sweet for me, honey, so fucking perfect.

P.S. How many reports do you still have left? Because I’ve been thinking about having you on my tongue again before the night is over. I think I’ve got about an hour or so left but then I’m all yours.

^.ᆽ.^= ∫

A.H.

Yeah. No. Absolutely not.

That man could not be trusted with the cat.

“Oh, honey,” you cooed, pressing a soft kiss between his shoulder blades as your fingers brushed over his back. “I don’t think you can get it. She must have programmed it herself into her phone.”

You truly hoped you were as convincing as he was clueless about text etiquette.

“It’s a pity,” he sighed, both of your wine glasses in hand as he made his way to the couch. “I would have loved to send you the cat.”

…Of course he would. Smug ass.

But as the words left his mouth, something shifted in him - just barely. A pause that didn’t usually belong there... weird.

Still, you followed, watching as he settled in, patting the cushion beside him with a half-smile. “Come here, sweetheart.”

A misleading gesture, considering his legs were very much spread - a much clearer invitation. At least, that’s how you chose to interpret it.

Because you could swear - those legs spoke to you. Called to you. So you slid right into your rightful seat - his lap.

…Would have been rude not to answer.

“Back to Garcia,” he said, resting a hand on your thigh as he handed you your painstakingly polished wine glass - so clean, so immaculately spotless, that the red wine inside looked redder than red. A real masterpiece, Mr. Clean. “She doesn’t seem to be letting up about finding out who you’re dating… This is the fourth message this week.”

You raised a brow, taking a sip of your wine. “Well, she’s second only to you when it comes to being nosy about gossip.”

Aaron exhaled, shaking his head, that same small half-smile back on his lips.

That particular smile.

The one he used when he was trying to convince someone he was fine when, in reality, he was not - when he was trying to reassure everyone else while simultaneously refusing to admit, even to himself, that something was eating him alive.

Oh, now you knew what this was about.

He had definitely practiced this conversation in his head - refined it down to the perfect phrasing. Measured. Logical. Reassuring.

A version so well-rehearsed, so carefully constructed, that he’d convinced himself first before trying to convince you - that this didn’t scare him.

That this was just another rational step forward.

That it was fine.

Because if he could make it sound easy, maybe it would be.

Maybe it would give you something solid to lean on, because the last thing he wanted was for you to feel like you were standing on shaky ground with someone just as fractured as he was.

But in the end, even the best-laid words couldn’t withstand the weight of his emotions - whether he liked it or not, even rocks are meant to erode.

“I think it’s time we come clean to the team,” he admitted, completely veering off-script - though, of course, he still made sure to soften the blow with a kiss to your temple.

Not that it made much difference. You both knew this moment was inevitable, but somehow, you’d managed to delude yourselves into thinking that if you just kept putting it off, the perfect time would miraculously appear.

At first, you’d delayed it until things were official.

Then, because you needed to be sure this could work in the long run.

Then, because you wanted time to just enjoy each other.

Truthfully? If it were entirely up to the two of you, you’d probably keep postponing it indefinitely - at least until the day you were both retired, far away from any fraternization rules or painfully awkward team dynamics.

Unless, of course, your eyes had been deceiving you all along, or life decided to be cruel and rip this happiness away from you before you ever even got the chance. All you could do was hope not.

Aaron sighed, watching you carefully. “So, how do you want to do this?”

At least he could take comfort in the fact that his very specific plan of having wine while discussing this was still intact - especially since the very large sip you took the second he asked hadn’t gone unnoticed.

He huffed a laugh.

Yeah.

This was going to be fun.

“Are we sure we have to?” You groaned, tilting your head back against his shoulder.

“I’m afraid so, sweetheart. It’s the only way to keep them from getting the satisfaction of figuring it out first and do this our way…”

It was his turn to take a long sip now… he surely wasn’t thrilled about the lack of an actual game plan.

“…Still need to figure out what exactly we mean by ‘our way,’” he admitted. “But, you know… that’s what these are for.”

He tapped a finger against his temple, then against yours, clearly implying that your very skilled, highly trained profiler brains would surely work this out.

You, however, were placing your bets on your problem-solving skills drastically improving after a few more glasses of wine, because right now?

“We are so fucked,” you commented.

Aaron clinked his glass against yours, deadpan. “Completely.”

You both took long, slow sips of wine like it might somehow provide divine intervention.

It didn’t. You were indeed left pretty much alone in this.

You sighed, setting your glass down on the coffee table. “Well, you definitely have the face of someone who already has a plan...” You reached up, brushing your fingers along his jaw. “...a very handsome face.”

Cheesy. But deserved.

Aaron chuckled. “I believe…” He kissed you on the cheek – twice - before setting his own glass down too. “…We should tell them directly. Get ahead of it. Lay it out as matter-of-factly as possible.”

“Matter-of-factly?”

He nodded, all serious, like he hadn’t just suggested the worst possible approach.

“Sweetheart…” You pinched his cheek, making him scrunch his nose, hoping – more like praying - that it would snap him out of whatever fantasy land of logic, reason, and good intentions he was apparently living in.

“If we tell them directly, Penelope will throw an actual partypersonally design matching t-shirts, and have the entire team wear them.” You paused, leveling him with a look. “And you know it wouldn’t be the first time.”

“I know.”

“Emily and Derek will immediately start making jokes like two middle schoolers who just learned what sex is and will not let us breathe.”

“I know.”

“JJ will be quiet but then ask all of a sudden, ‘So when’s the wedding?’ which will restart the chaos all over again.”

“I know.”

You turned to face him, deadly serious. “Spencer-”

“-Will hit us with a full statistical analysis of workplace relationships,” Aaron finished, exhaling sharply, already bracing himself.

Because there was only one team member left to account for - the worst of them all.

“And… oh God… Dave…”

And with that horrifying realization, he did the only logical thing a man in his position could do - he face-planted directly into your chest with a dramatic, muffled groan of pure defeat.

You blinked down at him, amused. “Honey…”

Why was he even so touch starved like that?

“All I ask,” came his muffled voice, still very much nestled between your breasts, “is five minutes of peace.”

You snorted. “You do realize this isn’t exactly discouraging me from making fun of you, right?”

He sighed again. “You do realize that if you keep laughing, you’re just shoving them further into my face?”

…Damn him and his irritating ability to state the obvious.

You sighed, fingers absentmindedly combing through his short spikes of hair. “…So we’re back to square one.”

Aaron exhaled, still very much face-first in his chosen safe haven. “Unfortunately.”

You hummed, “Okay, hypothetically, if we just… never tell them, how long do you think we could get away with it?”

That was so absurd that it actually made him lift his head. He blinked at you, utterly offended by the suggestion.

“I am not spending the next decade pretending I don’t stare at your ass every time you walk away.”

…Alright. That was definitely the wine talking.

In vino veritas, as the Romans said. Wine makes people say dumb shit: the truth.

“Wow. Didn’t know you were a poet, Hotchner.”

His lips twitched. “Don’t pretend you’re above it, because I catch you every time you drift off during briefings just to stare right at-”

“Alright, alright,” you cut him off, slapping a hand over his mouth before he could fully call you out... he was not happy about it. “We’re both shameless…"

You needed an exit strategy. Fast.

You reached for his wine glass over the coffee table. “Well, at least the bright side of telling them is that we won’t have to schedule our coffee breaks in advance anymore and pretend to look surprised when we see each other.”

And all of that was just for one single moment.

The fleeting brush of fingertips as you handed him the cup you always poured for him.

The way his hand was always warmer than yours, despite the fact that you were the one holding the scalding mug, as if basic thermodynamics simply did not apply to Aaron Hotchner.

And if it was one of those days, sometimes, there’d be a little extra something.

A longer touch.

Eye contact that lingered just a second too long.

A slow sip from his cup while still holding your gaze, and suddenly, it felt indecent - like something you definitely shouldn’t be doing in broad daylight, let alone in a federal building.

And now - here, in the comfort of his apartment, with nothing and no one to stop you - he reached for the wine glass you were offering, except… he wasn’t actually reaching for the glass.

He was just holding your hand.

Aaron chuckled, his thumb tracing lazy circles over your knuckles. “I think we’re holding onto this touch just a little too long,” he murmured, nuzzling into you, his breath warm against your ear. “Might start looking suspicious.”

Didn’t he knew exactly what he was doing.

“Oh, also some-” you started, or at least tried to, because as if everything else wasn’t enough, now he was kissing just behind your ear, his lips just brushing the sensitive skin there, warm, and slow, and wet and… God…

Okay. Okay.

Maybe it was the wine.

Maybe it was the fact that you were always kind of a little bit obsessed with him.

Either way, the result was the same: you really, really wanted him right now.

You sighed, tilting your head to grant him a little more access - but not too much, or you might actually end up using the full length of his three-seater couch instead of stubbornly remaining curled up in the same cramped two-foot space you’d unofficially claimed as your own. Ergo - going horizontal with him instead of just being seated on his lap.

“I thought we were having a serious discussion,” you murmured, though the breathy edge to your voice wasn’t exactly helping your case.

Aaron hummed in response, slowly dragging his lips from behind your ear down along the curve of your jaw, pressing a kiss at the hinge. “We are.” Another kiss. “What were you starting to say, sweetheart?”

And another one.

You tried to think. Really, you did.

But it was getting increasingly difficult with his mouth still very much on your skin, moving towards places that were making it exponentially harder to form coherent thoughts.

You would’ve made a mental note to never wear anything that resembled a tank top around him again, if only you had the actual brain capacity to form any notes right now.

“Aaron-”

Aaron smirked against your skin. “You were saying?”

…Blank. Absolutely blank.

Your brain stalled for a solid three seconds before mercifully rebooting.

“I-” You licked your lips, cleared your throat. “Penelope.”

That, thankfully, was enough of a keyword to get him to back off - though, the second he did, you already desperately missed the warmth of his mouth on your skin.

He tilted his head, “Penelope?”

You swallowed. “She’s… gonna be beaming.”

Aaron blinked at you. “Beaming.”

“Yeah.” You smiled, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek, because God, he was too cute when he was confused like this. “Her and Kevin have been desperate for another couple to go out with. Ever since JJ and Will stopped leaving the house because they’re too busy baby-proofing every square inch of their lives.”

Aaron’s brows furrowed slightly. “And by ‘go out with,’ you mean double dates.”

You hummed, fingers grazing his cheek. “Mmm. Yeah. Double dates.”

Aaron didn’t even hesitate. “Oh, absolutely not.”

You blinked, pulling back slightly. “Wait, what?”

His face was resolute. “I’m not doing double dates.”

You squinted at him. “Okay, but why?”

And that’s how you learned that if there was one thing your boyfriend hated - more than messy paperwork, more than delayed flights, more than the Bureau’s budgeting meetings - it was double dates.

Not specifically with Penelope and Kevin. God, no. He was practically the puppet master of their relationship in the first place. Just… double dates in general.

“They’re impractical,” he said.

You snorted. “What do you mean?”

Aaron sighed. “They are a waste of time. You sit there, and for the first fifteen minutes, it’s fine. The usual small talk, polite conversation…”

You nodded, barely biting back a grin. “That doesn’t sound so bad.”

Honestly, this just sounded like some classic Aaron Hotchner being the most adorable introvert to ever exist.

He shot you a look, deadly serious. “It’s a trap.” You nearly cooed. Adorable. “Because at some point, you end up talking one-on-one with someone from the other couple. And right when the conversation is actually getting interesting-”

He suddenly paused.

His hand started at your shoulder, innocent enough - until it wasn’t, until it drifted lower, fingertips skimming down until they found your thigh, before sliding inward, squeezing your soft flesh there.

“See?” Aaron murmured, voice deceptively casual. “It starts off innocently. A hand on the shoulder…”He angled his fingers just a notch further up your upper thigh. “…Then the thigh. Then-”

He leaned in, kissing you just at the corner of your mouth.

"A little kiss here," he murmured, lips barely brushing your skin.

Then another - softer, lingering just at the very edge of your lips.

"A little peck there."

Okay.

Ahem.

For a man who hated double dates, he was making a very strong case for them.

This was clearly foreplay.

Had to be foreplay.

You chose to interpret it as foreplay.

So, naturally, just as you were about to pull him in properly - to finally taste the wine on his lips – he pulled back.

Mixed signals whore.

“And then,” he continued, and you swore his voice had gotten even lower - sluttier, if you were being honest - "it escalates.”

...Wine-induced yapper. "Because one couple decides a little peck isn’t enough, so they turn and start devouring each other’s faces… in public.”

The wine that was in your system, instead, suggested you should have him biblically, right here, right now, on his couch.

“Care to demonstrate this part too?” You licked your lips, tilting your head.

Aaron sighed “Honey.” You knew you were in trouble the moment he smirked. “You’re demonstrating my point…”

Your stomach dropped.

“…You want more.” Aaron tutted, shaking his head, feigning disappointment. “Of course you want more. A chaste kiss isn’t enough. How could it be, sweetheart?”

Hell yes you wanted more.

Badly.

You might have even nodded without meaning to.

“But imagine if this was happening in public. In front of two other people. What about them?” he murmured, tilting his head, voice dropping into something dark, silky, dangerous. “In front of two other people.”

You swallowed, very much not thinking about them right now.

“Because at that point, they only have two choices: they either sit there - third-wheeling, watching - or…” His hand slid beneath your shirt, fingers splaying wide over your bare waist, gripping, pulling you that much closer. "… they start doing it too."

Your breath hitched. “Aaron-”

"With just a kiss, it creates an environment," he murmured, lips grazing the shell of your ear, "where both couples get competitive. Where they start copying each other - but making it more…"

He dragged his nose along the curve of your jaw, the ghost of his lips tracing just behind it. "Passionate."

A teeth-grazing kiss against your pulse.

A slow drag of his lips down the column of your throat, before he made his way back up, tilting your chin up with his fingers just so, forcing you to look at him.

And God, that look.

"More tongue," he continued, letting you see it first - his own darting out, wetting his lips just before he brushed them over yours.

Not kissing.

Not yet.

“More biting.” Aaron caught your lower lip between his teeth, pulling just enough to confirm what you already knew -

He tasted like red wine.

Rich. Dark. Addictive.

And so did you.

“More touching.” His hand drifted, fingertips just skimming over your ribs, teasing along the underside of your breast - so close, so close, before he let it trail lower again, just as his lips ghosted over your ear.

"More sounds."

You barely bit back the breathy, desperate little moan clawing its way up your throat because -

Aaron shoved you off his lap.

In one fluid motion, he shifted, pressing you back into the couch, caging you in beneath him, his arms bracketing either side of your head.

His knee slotted between your thighs, pressing up just slightly - just enough to make you gasp, make your hips twitch without thinking.

You were pretty sure now that this was, in fact, foreplay.

“At that point,” he murmured, lowering himself, pressing his body against yours, pinning you down with nothing but his weight, “if you’re already getting ideas…”

Aaron rolled his hips against you, his knee shifting just enough to have you sucking in a sharp breath. “…it’s better off just staying home. Because at least then,” he whispered, “we can do this.”

And then he kissed you. Properly.

Deep and hungry, pressing you down into the cushions until you moaned into his mouth, pulling him closer as one of his hands slipped under your shirt.

“You-” you swallowed, trying to find words, but he stole them from you, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to your jaw. “You expect me to believe this is why you hate double dates?”

“I expect you to understand,” he murmured against the sensitive skin of your neck, “that if I ever go on one…” he nipped at your pulse, making you gasp. “…I’ll be thinking about this the entire time.”

Then - click.

The sound of the button of your pants being undone, followed shortly by the hiss of your zipper. You felt the warmth of his fingertips slipping beneath the waistband of your pants, resting over your hip bone.

Well, fuck.

“You’ll be sitting across from me,” he continued, voice so unfairly composed, so infuriatingly smooth, “pretending to listen to whatever they’re taking about.”

He tilted his head, kissing along your collarbone, then much lower. You made a mental note to always wear anything resembling a tank top in his presence from now on.

“And the entire time…” his fingers dipped just slightly beneath the elastic of your underwear.

You shuddered. “Aaron.”

He hummed, pleased - so deeply pleased - before finally sliding lower, his fingers finally brushing right where you needed him most.

You whimpered.

“I’ll be remembering,” he murmured, “exactly how you sound right now.”

Your back arched into his touch, fingers digging into his shoulders, nails biting into muscle as his fingers moved.

“And how you look,” he added, his lips brushing the curve of your breast, “when you fall apart for me.”

Your breath hitched-

And then.

Then-

He stopped.

Just - stopped.

His hands left you completely as he leaned back, settling onto his knees above you, looking far too pleased with himself.

You gaped at him, betrayed. “Are you kidding me?”

Aaron just smirked, gaze flicking over you, taking in your flushed cheeks, your uneven breathing, the way your body was still desperately aching for him.

“See?” he shrugged, voice so damn smug. “This is why I hate double dates.”

How funny would it be if these ended up being his last words?

You huffed, adjusting yourself on the couch, crossing your arms like you weren’t still ridiculously turned on and very annoyed about it. “Alright, you know what? Fine. No need to suffer through a double date if we just… conveniently wait to tell the team about us until after JJ and Will start going back out with Penelope and Kevin.”

Aaron smirked.

At least you’d both come to an agreement - the exact same procrastination tactic you’d been using, just with a new and improved excuse attached.

“…Smart girl.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “Don’t patronize me.”

“I wouldn’t dare, sweetheart.”

You rolled your eyes, still breathing heavily, still so deeply unsatisfied, as Aaron pressed a kiss to your temple, then stood, stretching his arms.

“I’ll clean the wine glasses,” he mused, already heading toward the kitchen. “And then I’ll be back to you.”

You stared at him.

He paused, glancing at you over his shoulder, smirking.

You huffed, sarcastic, “glad we could work this out.”

You were not glad. Not at all. Especially because not even a full minute later, your phone buzzed with a text.

From him.

From Mr. Clean himself, who was currently just a couple rooms away from you.

Lawyer, 8:43 PM:

Sweetheart, I hope you're ready, because I’m going to spread you out on that couch and fuck you so deep, you’ll still feel me when you sit at your desk tomorrow.

^.ᆽ.^= ∫

A.H.

"Garcia just told me how to get the cat," came his voice from the kitchen - so damn smug you could hear the smirk in it, followed the sound of his footsteps getting closer.

Before you could turn, before you could say anything, he was there - leaning in from behind the couch, arms sliding around you, caging you in, whispering into your ear -

"It was just a simple copy-paste."

taglist: @beata1108 ; @c-losur3 ; @fangirlunknown ; @hayleym1234 ; @justyourusualash ; @khxna ; @kyrathekiller ; @lostinwonderland314 ; @mxblobby ; @oxforce ; @percysley ; @person-005 ; @prettybaby-reid ; @reidfile ; @royalestrellas ; @ssa-callahan ; @softestqueeen ; @theseerbetweenus ; @todorokishoe2

[mixingandmelting]

Heavy Blanket

Summary: You were cold and needed a blanket. He decides to be that blanket only to get too comfy and lay on top of you longer than needed

Simon "Ghost" Riley

You’re hot. Sweltering. Wheezing. Lungs close to collapsing. And no matter how many times you tell him, he won’t. Get. Off.

“Simon, please.” You gently nudge his shoulder, trying to get him to look at you. “I’m suffocating here.” 

He simply grunts, nuzzling his face into your chest as his arms tighten around your chest. You suppose it’s your fault, having told him that you were cold and not wanting to get off the couch to get a blanket. You just.. didn’t expect him to take it quite literally and provide you a heavy, weighted one (i.e., him). 

You sigh. Maybe you could push him off…? You glance down only to be reminded how massive he is, easily engulfing your being so that it looks like there’s simply a single person on the sofa. Hell, the only indication you’re even lying there is your head and arms poking out from underneath. No body, just ligaments. 

Yeah. It’s Not happening. As if sensing your disgruntlement, he lifts his head so his eyes would be looking into yours. For a moment the two of you stare, waging a wordless battle.

“…For a person called ghost, you’re so cheeky.”

He snorts, going back to comfortably resting his head on your chest.

“Only to you, love. Only to you.” 

Took the words right out of your mouth. 

Shaking your head in exasperation, you card your fingers through his hair. Welp. laundry is definitely not getting done today. 

Johnny "Soap" Mactavish

“Johnny?”

“No.”

“Johnny.”

“No.”

“John Mactavish.”

That gets him to lift his head up. You try not to snort at the offended look he gives you, his eyes asking if you had seriously just used his full name over something like this. Instead, you take this chance to finally get some precious O2 in your lungs and enjoy weight being lifted off of you. Literally. 

You’re reminded of how his biceps are the size of your head when he props onto his elbows, bright blue eyes staring directly into yours. 

“Luvie, I’m not John Mactavish to you. Am I?” 

“No. But,” you shuffle to get around but he doesn’t budge. Dammit. “You are a furnace. Heavy, hard, and exuding only heat.” 

Instantly you regret saying that, recognizing the glint in his eyes. 

“Heavy and hard, aye?”  

One hand to cover your burning face, you use the other to smack his chest. You and your stupid mouth. Him and his stupid, smug, smirk. Chuckling, he moves and gets comfortable before snuggling you again. At least he’s being mindful this time, making sure you aren’t feeling as if you’re being flattened into a pancake. As for you, you nuzzle your face into the junction where his neck and shoulder meet. It’s going to take a while for you to function, the embarrassment still fresh and searing your soul. 

Kim Hong Jin "Horangi"

You swear you’re dating a giant cat, not a tiger. The ones that enjoy pushing a glass off the table while you’re looking and begging with your eyes not to. Smiling as some crying lady points at them over a salad. 

You’ve been shoving and pushing him by the shoulders, and so far you’ve successfully freed half of your upper body (more like that’s the only leeway he’s willing to give but you choose to ignore that).

“Hong Jin.” You pant between each word, exhausted and having much of your strength sapped out of you. “You need to let go.”

“싫은데?“ (Don’t want to?) 

…This man and his nerves. 

“No, seriously.” You nudge him, hoping it would get your message across. “I can’t even feel my legs.”

“Just five more minutes.” His groan coming out muffled from him burying his face into your tummy. 

Five minutes ago he said that. Which was also what he said five minutes before that. Now you’re uncomfortable, feeling the half of you he’s holding onto sweat while the other feels chilly from the sudden loss of heat. Worst is how effortless it is for him to keep you still, lazily lying on top of you being enough to stop you from worming yourself out. Like sure, you do enjoy how well-built he is but not like this! 

Sucking a breath in, you go back trying to pry yourself off as he stays where he is, eyes closed and a grin plastered on his face. 

König 

A king-size mattress. That’s what he is. And certainly feels that way too with how he easily engulfs both you and the bed. 

“Konig.” You gently shake him, only for him to turn his head. 

You don’t know whether to laugh or cry though, at the moment, it would hurt if you do either. Every time you try calling him out or getting his attention, he’d turn his head where he’d lie on one cheek then flip to the other. He doesn’t even make a sound. No harrumphs, grunts, or a sigh. All of you wanted to do was go get ready since the two of you are supposed to meet with his friends. Now? Not happening. 

“We need to get ready. It’s already quarter past five.” 

He squeezes your waist in response, snuggling himself into you. Just like a petulant kid, thinking if he doesn’t say anything and pretends to not hear you, you would stop. You try to slip from being underneath him, not enjoying being the filling in the mattress sandwich. Unfortunately for you, fortunately for him, you give up in less than ten seconds realizing how much you’d have to go through to just get a hand out. 

You raise your hand to place it on his shoulder until he stops you by grabbing at the wrist. He drags and presses it against his cheek, making you feel stubbles under your fingertips. Biting your lip, you close your eyes and mentally count from ten. 

“You better text them we’re not going.” You grumble, cupping his face in your hands. 

“Already did.”

You shake your head. This man. 

[tinyd3ath]

🎀🩰 Bulking Weight 🎀🩰

��Come on mama, fuck! Just be a good girl and take it so I can give you all my cum. That’s what you want right.”

Or

Bakugou gets a little insecure about the extra weight he gained while bulking, and you fuck the insecurity out of him.

Originally posted on A03

🎀🩰

“This was so much fun.” You practically bouncing with joy. It’s been forever since y’all have been on patrol together.

“Whatever dumbass, don’t slow me down.” You throw a glare his way.

“Don’t forget I’m still your wife, your ass will be on the couch if you keep talking to me like that.”

He scuffs in response knowing not to test you, but still wanting to have the last “word”. You giggle at him. You find it cute how unbothered he tries to seem.

Today seemed to be a pretty calm day for patrol. So far you’ve only broken up two fights, saved a cat, and taken pictures with a few fans.

You guys got a call that you can end the day early since it’s been pretty slow all over the city. You two are walking back to the agency now. Bakugou can feel the excitement rolling off you. He can’t help, but crack a little smirk. Seeing his pretty wife practically glow with excitement lights something inside him. He thought he’d be over all the puppy love by now, but watching you walk down the street smiling while the sun hits your skin making your cheeks look like those caramel/chocolate commercials makes him just wanna sink his teeth in you. In a good way of course.

“What are you so excited about anyways?”

“I was planning on watching the new game of thrones series when we got back, and now I get to watch it earlier than planned” You squeal.

Gosh you’re such a nerd. He never understood why you like those British shows. They all look like their bodies, and breath smell like ass. Yeah, the fight scenes are cool, but other than that what do you watch it for?

He was too busy thinking about how weird your taste in television was to notice a group of teenagers boys walking down the sidewalk towards y’all. He’s shaken out of his thoughts by the force of the tallest in the group shoulder checking him.

“Watch old man.” The tall box dyed blonde says to Bakugou. The kid’s friends all snicker. Bakugou stops , and turns to the group.

“Didn’t your parents teach you to respect your superiors? Especially the ones out here keeping your ass safe.”

The blonde teen just rolled his eyes.

“You should be less worried about my parents, and more worried about your beer belly. Fat ass.” Before he can stop, and think about it Bakugou goes to grab the kid by the collar. But you are quicker, and grab his arm before he can do so.

“Come on I wanna go home.” You plead with your eyes for him to let it go. He really wants to teach these fuckers a lesson, but his need to please you outweighs his need to rub some random brat’s face in the dirt. He grunts in agreement, and lets you drag him away. He can hear the boys laughing as y’all walk away. But all he cares about is getting his pretty wife on the couch surrounded by your favorite snacks.

You use your quirk to knock the kid on his ass before you guys get too far. Teenagers fucking suck.

—

While sitting on the couch with you later he couldn’t help replay what that brat said earlier. He noticed he’d gained a little fat, but it’s because he’s bulking. Was it really that noticeable? Why haven’t you said anything? He started to feel as if he led you on.

When you first meet back in school he wasn’t all jacked, but he was far from fat. The body you feel in love with. The one you loved so much your panties would get wet just from looking at isn’t the same anymore.

Did you still even find him attractive?

Bakugou can’t bring himself to ask you about it. He says that he’ll just watch you carefully to see any signs of discomfort . The problem was you look so unfazed. He can’t tell if it’s because you haven’t noticed, don’t care, or if you’re trying to look unbothered to not hurt his feelings.

His feelings weren’t hurt, maybe his ego was a little bruised. But the fact you’re the type to go around problems that aren’t problems to protect other’s feelings only adds to the uncertainty.

What Bakugou didn’t notice was that you picked up on his discomfort. You noticed the long looks in the mirror after every shower. The not wanting to cuddle every night like he usually does. Most of all the lack of intimacy.

You guys haven’t had sex in almost a week. Every time y’all start to get hot, and heavy he just eats you out the rolls over and says goodnight.

Head is great. But fuck, you wanna feel the weight of your husband on top of you as he makes love to you.

You decid you’ve had enough. Whatever is worrying him so much you’re going find out and fix. At dinner you decide to finally speak about it.

“Katsuki.” Almost immediately Bakugou looks up at you.

“Yes?” Worry lines your face. Bakugou starts to panic thinking something happened to make you upset. Just as he was about to ask if you were okay you cut him off.

“What’s wrong? You’ve been acting different. You haven’t been as affectionate or intimate. Are you not attracted to me anymore?”

Now he really starts to panic. How could you, his beautiful perfect wife ever think you were the problem? How could he not be attracted to you? You were hand crafted by God himself. You are the only woman he could ever love. Never once had he ever questioned your beauty. Even in school when he thought you were annoying, he still found you breathtaking.

“Are you crazy there’s no way I couldn’t be attracted to you.”

“Then what’s the problem?” He pauses, and shaky breath in. Should he lie, or let you know that some punk made him a little insecure?

No, he can’t lie to you. For this whole ‘death do us part’ thing to work he’s gonna have to be honest with you. Even if it makes him uncomfortable.

“…I’m afraid that you don’t find me attractive now that I’ve put on some pounds.” He’s too embarrassed to even look up from his plate. There’s silence for a minute. He starts to worry that he’s actually right. But when he looks up to see your face it’s filled with nothing, but love. You get up from your seat, and walk over to him. You reach out to stroke his cheek.

“There’s nothing that would make me stop loving, or finding you unattractive. And I have noticed the extra pounds, but honestly it’s kinda doing it for me.” You giggle at his stunned face. You pull him in for a kiss. It starts off tinder. Full of the love you two share. But with new found confidence Bakugou starts to get impatient. He missed this. Your body against his. The kiss becomes more intense as he pulls you closer to him.

He lifts you by the back of your knees, and carries you to your shared bedroom. You let out a squeal as you’re dropped on the bed. Bakugou chuckles at you, but you aren’t given enough time to say anything about before he reconnects your lips. He starts moving his kisses lower, and nips at your jaw.

Between nibbles, and kisses Baukgou breathes out “God I’ve missed this”.

You let out a startled moan when he goes lower, and sucks your nipple through your thin shirt. You feel his lips curve into a smirk at your reaction.

You start to get impatient from all the nipping,and kissing. You’ve been deprived of him for too long. You whine as you tug on his shirt letting him know you want it off. Bakugou can’t help,

but coo at you, and give a kiss to your pouty lips.

“I know pretty girl, I know. Just let me taste you first baby.” He peels your clothes off before laying between your legs. His mouth waters every time he see your beautiful cunt. He watches as more slick leaks from you. He uses his thumb to spread it across your lips, before giving your clit the tiniest rub. It’s a ghost of a touch, and it drives you crazy. You start whining down at your husband begging with your pretty eyes for more, and who is he to tell you no? He replaces his hand with his mouth.

He loves the smell, and taste of you. He never thought there’d be a day he would be obsessed with a vagina, but after y’all’s first time he’s been hooked. He licks you like it give him just as much pleasure. The room is filled with your moans, and the sloppy sound of your dripping hole and his mouth . You grab at his hair, and start rolling your hips up into his face. Bakugou’s eyes rolling back at the feeling of you rubbing your juices all over his lower face and nose.

Bakugou sucks your clit between his lips while flicking the tip of his tongue against it. The clinching in your stomach gets tighter, and you know you’re close. But when he slightly nibbles on your clit you know it’s over. You cry out as you ride your orgasm out on his face. After you calm down Bakugou sits up on his knees to see your fucked out expression, and heaving chest.

As good as him eating you out was, it wasn’t what you wanted. You tug at his pants with pleading eyes, expressing what you really want.

“What pretty girl you can’t use your words?” He says in that mockingly sweet voice. He likes seeing his pretty wife like this. All desperate, and sparkling eyed. It’s impossible not to get hard while watching you squirm, and beg for his cock. It’s when you pout up to him all big eyed, and desperate that he gives you what you want. No matter how hard he tries he can’t say no to you. His beautiful sweet wife. If he could he’d give you the universe. He pulls his shirt off, and tosses it across the room. He then removes his belt, and pants leaving him in just his underwear. He starts to feel a little uneasy showing all this extra skin to you, but seeing the hungry look on your face burns it all away.

You feel yourself getting wetter as you stare at your husband’s changed body. You felt the extra weight, but seeing it makes you so much more hornier than you expected. All his bulging muscles. Instead of being lean like before he’s fuller. His stomach has become slightly rounder, and his shoulders, chest, and biceps meatier.

“Fuck I need you.” A evil smirk breaks out across Bakugou’s face.

“Come get it baby.” You tug his underwear down causing his cock to flop out. The swollen pink tip leaks with precum. You give him a few strokes before leaning down, and giving the tip a sweet kiss. You suck the tip into your mouth while wiggling your hips in the air knowing how much he loves seeing your ass move. Bakugou groans at the display. But you only get two head bobs in before he’s pulling you off, and pushing you on your back.

“That can wait for later. Weren’t you just begging me to fuck you. I gotta give my baby what she want.” He smugly says to you.

Bakugou pushes your knees apart and, taps his fat dick on your pussy. He enjoys watching the slight jiggle of your fat lips. He sit his dick between your lips, and lets his dick sit snug between the two. He thrust slowly. His tip catching your clit with every upward thrust. He loves watching the contrast of his dick sliding between your brown lips.

After an impatient “Katsuki” he lines his tip up with your hole, and slowly pushes into you. You both can’t stop the low whines from leaving your lips as he stretches your tight spongy walls around him. He looks to make sure he wasn’t hurting you, and almost blows his load right there.

Seeing your mouth agape, and face scrunched up in pressure causes his dick to twitch inside you.

He can’t stop himself from breathing out a “Fuck baby” at the sight of you laid out so pretty. He starts moving at a steady pace. He leaves kisses all over your face, and shoulders. He can’t stop himself from telling you how good you are between kisses. Something about your gummy walls makes his mind go foggy, and his tongue loose.

“You’re doing so good baby.”

“Taking all of me so well.”

“Come on pretty girl give it to me.”

“Can’t believe this pretty pussy is all mine.” The steady pace was amazing while you were getting use to his size again,but now you were getting impatient and wanting more.

Bakugou is caught off guard when you suddenly pulled him down by his neck, and cross your ankles around his waist. You can’t stand the no skin to skin. All you want is to feel the weight of your husband on top of you while he beats your walls in.

You look up at him with glossy eyes, and beg “please Katsuki, i need more”.

And who the hell was he to tell you no. He gives you one last peck before getting up on his elbows, and thrusting into you like it was his only purpose in life. Your squeals plus the sloppy sound your cunt starts making, makes his mind go hazy. All he can think about is getting you to cum on his cock then stuffing you full of his cum.

You reach between your bodies to give your clit the attention she’s throbbing for. The added sensation makes you squeeze even tighter around him. It’s too much for you both. Bakugou can’t even hold himself up anymore causing him to lay his full body on you,and starts humping into wet soft heat. He subconsciously starts sucking and licking on your neck like a fucking virgin that’s having their first kiss.

You can’t stop your sobs. It’s all too much, and not enough at the same time. You feel so full, yet you want to suck him in deeper. His tip rubbing against your cervix isn’t enough. You want him inside it, smearing his cum against each area of it.

“Katsuki, fuck!” you wail.

“Daddy please!”

“It’s okay baby you can take.” He coos at you.

“No I can’t, it’s too much!”

“Come on baby take it for me.” He pulls you into a sloppy kiss. When you pull apart he says

“Come on mama, fuck! Just be a good girl and take it so I can give you all my cum. That’s what you want right.”

You get out a little ‘mhm’ between sobs.

You feel your climax on the tip of your tongue. He can tell you need a little something more. Bakugou reaches his hand up, and rolls your nipple between his fingers before giving it a pinch.

Your climax hits you like a wave, and drags Bakugou down with you. He continues thrusting making sure he covers all your walls with his cum.

You two lay there holding each other after coming down from your highs. You run your nails through his hair while waiting for your heartbeats to go back to normal. After a few minutes you decide to break the silence.

“You know, nothing could make me stop loving you.” Bakugou feels an intense swell of emotion in his chest. He tries to hide his red cheeks, and teary eyes by burying his face between your breast.

“Fuck how’d I get so lucky?”

[partiallysame]

This is probably an odd idea- but i wanna say what would be their reaction to Price lil wife wanting to have a unique pet (not bunny, hamster, dog, cat) something like a snake maybe? :3 (i love slippery tube dudes)

I might also add Simon's particular reaction considering his past when he was forced to kiss a snek (not cool, very scary for him) but ofc reader and maybe the others don't know that

No pressure ofc..! Love ur writing sm boo, literally everytime i open Tumblr and see ur new post im already kicking my feet happily before i even read it sksksk

at this point im telling my friends we are dating

2. Currently taking notes. Memorizing the snek anatomy. 

They all walk in together and there you are sitting so cute on the couch holding the sweet noodle angel baby as it slithers around your hands. Price is not surprised in the least. Like not at all this is just a Tuesday for you. Kyle? He’s gone. Aint no way he’s taking another step in that house while there is a demon there. What was that? The old man neighbor across the street needs help (no he doesn’t) Kyle simply has to go help the feeble old man bc he’s a nice neighborly gentleman definitely not bc he is shaking in his boots. Johnny? Gun out. Thinks the thing snuck in the house and is about to strangle you. He’s ready to protect the missus at all costs. (Might just lose his own life when Price see’s him pointing a fucking gun at you.) “I’ll protect ye bonnie” Johnny chill. Simon? He’s stuck in the doorway. Half of him wants to be across the street with Kyle but after seeing Johnny’s first instinct was to try to protect you, the other half of him wants to help keep you safe too. Never did it cross Simon or Johnny's mind that you willingly put yourself in this dangerous position. (snuggling on the couch with a snake). “Relax boys, he’s nice look” You lift the lil guy up in the air showing him off. Both Simon and Johnny relaxed as they looked at your big happy eyes staring at the creature you were holding. Johnny put his gun away and was immediately next to you asking to hold him. Simon took a few more steps into the room but was absolutely not going to hold the thing. “You wanna hold him Si?” “absolutely fucking not.” too harsh Simon try again “I mean no thank you.” The snake is back in its vivarium and Simon would go check it out but do not touch him while he’s there bc he def jumped out of his skin when you touched his shoulder while he was focused on the snake. Wait its been hours where’s kyle? Eating dinner outside bc he’s not coming back in with that thing in there.

[lvlybin]

hello! could i request a zb1 reaction to watching a horror movie with reader? tysm!!

cw mentions of death, gore, demons, killers... the normal horror movie stuff

✉️ honestly, each of the boys are scaredy-cats and that episode of camp zerobaseone with the haunted house is further proof

ㅤ ⎯⎯ㅤ 𝓙iwoong ﹙𝓴.﹚ㅤ

     When you and Jiwoong have movie nights, you’re usually the one picking the movie. You’re his first priority, so whatever you want to watch, he’ll gladly watch as well. Considering how much you love him, it only makes sense that you do the same for him. That’s what you have to keep telling yourself as the horror movie he picked out plays on the large TV screen in your living room. That’s not to say you hate horror movies, but the one you were watching was definitely going to make it a bit difficult to fall asleep that night. You were a big girl, though. If Jiwoong wanted to watch a horror movie, you’d watch one with him. 

     Another jumpscare of whatever slasher is chasing the main characters occurs on the screen, making you yelp and jump a little, sending you further into Jiwoong’s arms. Thankfully, he’d been holding you since the beginning of the movie. As he laughs at your reaction, you groan. 

     “You did this to torture me,” you grumble, resting your head on his shoulder as you turn your eyes back to the movie.

     Your words pull another laugh from the dark-haired man you’re cuddled with: "I can only watch so many rom-coms, darling.” You don’t bother responding to that because, yes, you did pick rom-coms a lot, but Jiwoong never complained about them. Your eyes stay glued on the screen as this chase scene continues, only for another jumpscare to pop up. It almost frustrates you that you react to it again.

     “Jumpscares shouldn’t be allowed to be back-to-back like that…” you mumble, curling up closer to your boyfriend. 

     “Maybe we should watch more horror movies then,” Jiwoong suggests, and when you tilt your head up to look at him, his dark brown eyes are already on you. “More excuses to have you in my arms.” 

     “You know all you have to do is ask–”

      Jiwoong’s fingers gently brush against your chin, making you turn your head back to the screen. “Pay attention,” he says before pressing a soft kiss to your temple, “I’ll protect you.”

ㅤ ⎯⎯ㅤ 𝓗ao ﹙𝔃.﹚ㅤ

     You lay back on the couch, your head in Hao’s lap as he scrolls through movie options. Tonight was supposed to be a date night for the both of you, a cute little festival that was taking place in Seoul, but unfortunately, the weather had other plans. Outside your apartment, rain poured down heavily, soft rumbles of thunder sounding out against the night sky every now and then.

     “You know what fits this weather?” you ask Hao, folding your hands on your stomach as you watch the remote flick through film options. Your boyfriend hums softly in acknowledgement, telling you that he’s listening. “A horror movie.”

     “A horror movie?”

     It was a bit out of character for you, but you were in the mood to get scared. “Yeah, why not?” The search bar on the TV is highlighted as Hao begins to search for that specific genre. 

     “Any specific one?”

     You shake your head against his lap. “You pick.”

     Hao sighs softly above you, his free hand moving to play with your hair while he reads through the descriptions of the films. Finally, after much deliberation, he settles on a horror movie to watch. Only to talk the whole time. Not that you minded; you thought it was adorable how your boyfriend just had to share every thought and opinion he had while you both spent some quality time together. Not to mention, every little thing that Hao said was extremely entertaining. But to say the least, it made the movie much less scary.

     “That doesn’t even look like real blood,” Hao says, his voice slightly muffled against your shirt. You’d both settled down after selecting which movie to watch, and your boyfriend had fallen into your side, resting his head against your chest while he kept the blanket pulled up around you both.

      “I would hope it’s not real blood.”

“Well, obviously, but it takes away from really immersing the viewers in the story…” he trails off, and you can hear the pout in his voice. He’s silent for a moment, enjoying the way your hands play with the fluffy strands of his hair, until one of the characters meets their end. Instead of jumping or getting scared like he’s supposed to though, Hao furrows his eyebrows in confusion, “Please, this doesn’t even make any sense…”

ㅤ ⎯⎯ㅤ 𝓗anbin ﹙𝓼.﹚ㅤ

     “Ahh, I can’t look!” Hanbin’s hand flies over his eyes again, and you scramble to pull it away. Your boyfriend’s reactions were always the best to see, he was the most animated person you knew, so you’d had the brilliant idea to watch a horror movie with him. You just didn’t anticipate how scared he would get. When you manage to pry his hand away from his eyes, he’s quick to cover them again with his other hand.

     “Hanbin!” you cry out, the movie forgotten as you giggle at your boyfriend. “Bin… If you don’t want to watch this, we don’t have to.” 

     At your words, he’s quick to uncover his eyes, looking at you with his warm, brown irises. “No, no, I want to watch.”

     “I don’t want you to be so scared to the point where you’re not watching,” you say, still smiling a little at how cute this man can be. Hanbin’s quick to shake his head, instead leaning into your side. The sheets of your bed are pulled up tightly around you both, making you feel cozy despite the scary movie that’s playing on the TV in your bedroom. 

     Hanbin, even though he has amazingly obvious reactions, is good at hiding things. When his lips lift in the corners a little, you know that he’s been faking being overly scared. “I won’t be scared if you hold me…” You fight the urge to laugh.

     “You’re something else, Sung Hanbin.” But still, you wrap your arms around his shoulders, the comforting weight of his body settling over yours. You both are quiet for a moment, focused on the movie as the music sets the mood of suspense. “You’d tell me if you were actually scared, though, right?”

     “Who says I’m not scared?” 

     “Hanbinnn–” He cuts you off with a fake little scream as a jumpscare occurs on the screen. He turns to look at you, eyebrows furrowed and lips parted just a bit. He’s still pretending to be scared.

     “See? I’m terrified,” he says, an adorable pout on his lips as he tilts his head back to the movie. “Which means you need to hold me.”

ㅤ ⎯⎯ㅤ 𝓜atthew ﹙𝓼.﹚ㅤ

     In your hand, you have two tickets to the most recent horror movie that has been released. The other one of your arms is linked with Matthew’s as the two of you walk through the hallways of the movie theater, trying to find the theater for your designated showing time. “You excited?” Matthew asked, cradling the bucket of popcorn you’d be sharing in his free arm. 

     He’d been talking about going to see this movie since it’d come out, and it only made sense for you to go with him. He was definitely more excited to see the horror movie than you were, though. “As long as there’s no gore, I think I’ll be fine.”

     “It’s not supposed to be too gore-y, more of a psychological thriller.”

     Matthew reaches for the door of the theater, letting you inside the dark room first before following you inside. You quickly find your seats, lifting the arm between the chairs so you can cuddle into your boyfriend’s side. “If you’re excited, I’m excited,” you say softly into the mostly empty room. The two of you had decided to go later at night so there would be fewer people in the theater. 

     The movie eventually starts as you and Matthew share the popcorn, and you surprisingly find yourself getting into the movie more and more as it continues. Sure, some moments freak you out a little and cause you to lean into Matthew’s side, but overall, you find yourself enjoying the film. When you glance over at Matthew, he seems to be enjoying it too. There isn’t a hint of fear on his face, though.

     As expected, when the two of you leave the theater, he’s quick to gush about how good the movie was. You listen as your boyfriend praises each of the plot lines and the acting, even talking a little bit about the cinematography.

     “Since when are you such a movie buff?” you ask him as the cool night air hits your face.

     Matthew shrugs as one of his arms wraps around your shoulders, “I can appreciate art when I see it.” When you look at him, he’s suggestively looking back at you, making you laugh. “My only critique, though, was that it could’ve been scarier–”

     “It was plenty scary, Matt.”

ㅤ ⎯⎯ㅤ 𝓣aerae ﹙𝓴.﹚ㅤ

     The two of you are curled up around each other as you sit on your couch. All of the lights in your living room are off as the horror movie plays on the screen. Your best friend had recommended that you watch this movie, but so far, you hated it. And it seemed like your boyfriend would agree with you. 

      Another yelp leaves you both as the slasher catches up to one of the characters. Taerae’s hands grip your shirt tightly as you tuck your face into his neck. After the initial fear wears off, the two of you laugh. “I’m glad you’re as scared of these movies as I am,” Taerae sighs as you slowly look at the screen again. Thankfully, you’d missed whatever death scene had just played. 

     “We’re both wimps,” you joke as Taerae sucks in a breath between his teeth when one of the characters trips and falls. 

     “At least we’re trying.”

     You both chuckle softly at Taerae’s words, “Is it trying if we look away during every scary part?” 

     “Definitely,” Taerae mumbles as he squeezes your sides. “Just never make me watch one of these again.”

     Both of you continue watching, almost unable to look away again as the chase scene plays out. “Do you think you would survive this?” you ask your boyfriend in an attempt to distract the both of you from the building suspense and continuous jumpscares. Taerae shakes his head, slightly ruffling your hair since his cheek is pressed against your head.

     “No. I’m not agile enough to run for this long through a forest.” He pauses as there’s a slight pause in the build-up of the movie, subconsciously pressing himself closer to your side. “I don’t understand how they haven’t been caught yet.”

     “Plot armor,” you reply, pulling the blanket further up around the two of you like a shield from the fictional killer. Both of you watch, on edge, as the characters scramble to get to safety only as the slasher appears out of nowhere again. Taerae’s cry of surprise blends with the screams from the characters as he falls for another jumpscare. You hear him huff before he shifts a little, grabs the remote, and abruptly turns the movie off.

     “We can finish it when it’s not nighttime.”

ㅤ ⎯⎯ㅤ 𝓡icky ﹙𝓼.﹚ㅤ

     It almost annoys you how unaffected Ricky is by the horror movie you’re watching. Usually, you don’t have a problem with the genre, but something about this movie was really freaking you out. But your boyfriend is unaffected as ever. Like he’s watching a lighthearted comedy instead of a horror movie focusing on a demon. 

     Ricky simply sits on the couch with you, an arm over your shoulders as he keeps you snug against his side. He doesn’t react to any of the jumpscares, doesn’t cover his eyes when the horrifying monster appears on screen or when there are moments of gore. At least he doesn’t make fun of you for falling for those scary moments. 

     It’s late at night when the credits roll, and you’re wondering how you’re going to sleep.

     “Time for bed?” Ricky asks as he turns the TV off. You sit there for a moment; the living room is mostly dark now without the light of the TV. Your boyfriend tilts his head towards you after you’re quiet for a few beats of his heart. “You okay?”

     “Did that movie not scare you?”

     Ricky shrugs as he turns to face you even more, pulling you into his arms, your head resting against his chest, “It’s not real, YN, I remind myself of that.”

     You huff, inhaling the smell of his cologne and the laundry detergent the two of you use. It’s comforting. “It’s still scary.” You feel him smile against your hair before he presses a soft peck to the top of your head.

     “Scary?” Ricky’s voice has a teasing tone. “Are you scared?”

     You grumble against the fabric of his shirt, causing Ricky to let out a small chuckle. He kisses your head again. “I don’t think you’d protect me against a monster like that,” you mumble.

      Ricky lets out a mock-offended gasp, “You have that little faith in me?”

      You bite back a laugh. “You’d save yourself first–”

      “With that much doubt in your loving, caring boyfriend, maybe you deserve it.”

ㅤ ⎯⎯ㅤ 𝓖yuvin ﹙𝓴.﹚ㅤ

     Gyuvin usually had large reactions to things. Mostly with his words, but with his body as well. You’d known that even before you’d started dating him, and you’d thought it was charming. But in moments like these, it made it difficult for you to focus. Another jumpscare pops up on your TV screen, and in response, Gyuvin is throwing himself over your lap. Maybe it’s an attempt to look away from the scene, but it seemed like more of an excuse for him to lay on you.

     “Gyu,” you manage to get out, his arms squeezing your middle tightly, “Gyu, I can’t see.” And you really can’t, not with his shoulder blocking the TV from how he’s curled himself over your body. Sometimes, he reminds you of a puppy who doesn’t realize how big it is. Reluctantly, Gyuvin pulls away from you, settling back into the bed next to you.

     He sighs. It’s rare for him to be able to sit through an entire movie, but you had already begun watching this horror movie before Gyuvin came into your bedroom. So really, you weren’t watching it together; he’d simply joined you about halfway through. And now, he was trying to get your attention.

     “Wait, who’s this guy again?” Gyuvin asks as one of the main characters appears on the screen. Currently, the main characters were beginning some kind of investigation in their house that was quite obviously haunted. 

      You sigh. “Do you want me to start the movie over?”

      Gyuvin grins, but he shakes his head. “You’re already so far along. I’ll just look up the plot so I can catch up…” 

      So, you continue watching the movie while your boyfriend pulls out his phone to search up the Wikipedia page of the movie. After a moment, you hear him gasp. “What?” you ask, slightly worried at his sudden reaction. And before you can stop him, the ending of the movie is spilling out of his mouth.

      “Gyuvinnn,” you groan, going to pause the movie. There was no point in finishing it now, not when your boyfriend just spoiled the ending.

      “Sorry,” he says, but he doesn’t look that sorry. Not with the way he’s smiling. Gyuvin didn’t mind watching horror movies, but he would much rather have all of your attention on him.

ㅤ ⎯⎯ㅤ 𝓖unwook ﹙𝓹.﹚

     Your eyes drooped from exhaustion as you cuddled with Gunwook. It was normal for you to feel sleepy after only a few moments of lying with your boyfriend, his warm body and strong arms making you feel safe enough to begin to feel drowsy. Tonight, though, it’d been barely thirty minutes since Gunwook had arrived, and you falling asleep wasn’t going to do. 

     “YNie,” Gunwook says gently, rubbing your arm a little to try and get you to wake up. “Let’s watch a movie, hmm?”

     When he’d said that, you expected him to put on something funny or one of the shows you’d begun watching together. But no, Gunwook decided to put on one of the scariest movies he could find. Suddenly, you weren’t feeling sleepy at all. You hadn’t moved from your spot against his side, but now, you were scared to close your eyes in fear of the monster that was terrorizing the characters appearing behind your eyelids.

     Gunwook didn’t seem bothered, though. He was definitely enjoying the movie, judging by the way his eyes were glued to the screen. It was hard to scare Gunwook with a film because he would never picture himself in place of the characters. Therefore, he found them more entertaining than scary. You bury your face into his neck. You would try to fall back asleep again if it weren’t for the movie playing in the background with the music that only added to the horror element. 

     The sound of one of the characters screaming has you looking back at the TV that Gunwook is so entertained by. It was almost envy-worthy how by the time the movie’s over, your boyfriend is still perfectly fine as if he hadn’t watched the same terrifying movie as you. You press your face into his neck again.

     “Wook,” you mumble against his skin, “Why’d we watch something so scary?”

     “Needed to wake you up somehow,” he chuckles.

ㅤ ⎯⎯ㅤ 𝓨ujin ﹙𝓱. ﹚ㅤ

     Yujin hated scary movies. After watching one, it would be the only thing on his mind for the rest of the week, especially if he was in the dark. However, after talking with his Gyuvin-hyung, Yujin was convinced that a horror movie would be the best way to get you to cuddle with him for the first time. But he was seriously starting to regret going to his hyung for advice.

     The horror movie plays on screen while Yujin and you share a blanket, only your knees brushing. Honestly, Yujin’s afraid to look away from the screen in fear of the demon terrorizing the characters somehow getting out of the TV while he’s not looking. That, and you still don’t seem scared. He could put himself through this torture for you, though. Or at least, in hopes of getting some cuddles from you. 

     But it doesn’t seem like you’re going to get scared any time soon. Unlike him, you seem like you’re genuinely enjoying the movie. Even if you do have a few jumps every now and then, they aren’t into Yujin’s arms. This wasn’t anything like Gyuvin said it would be. You can do this, Yujin has to remind himself not to turn off the movie. And when you glance over at him, Yujin still can’t pull his eyes away from the screen. It’s like he can feel the concern grow in your eyes.

     “Yujin? Are you okay?”

     He makes a small sound that’s almost a whimper as another jumpscare happens on the screen. “Y-yeah, I’m great,” he manages to get out. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees your brows furrow. 

     “Are you sure? You look… terrified.”

     His heart drops, and a little bit of panic goes through him. What would you think of him if you knew he was scared because of a horror movie? Yujin swallows harshly as he gathers the courage to finally meet your eyes. “Can I be honest?” You nod your head in encouragement. “I only put on a horror movie so you would… um, cuddle with me.” 

     The last part is rushed and quiet, so you lean a little closer. “Huh?”

     Yujin’s face warms, “I only put on a horror movie so maybe you would get scared and have me comfort you and we would, you know, cuddle.”

      Your heart softens at his words as the corners of your mouth lift into a smile. “Well,” you say as you lean into your side, “Maybe I can comfort you with some cuddles since you’re the one who’s scared.”

[butterflydm]

WoT rewatch thoughts (1x5-1x08)

Still has spoilers through the s3 information that we have so far and book spoilers through a memory of light.

1x05

Both beginning and ending this episode on funeral rituals worked so well. Great structure.

Time skip for traveling! Mark a month off on the calender.

We can really see how Mat has deteriorated in the last month by the way he snaps at the kid who runs into him.

Love the shot of Dragonmount looming behind Tar Valon. They exist always with that reminder of what the Dragon did.

Mat has no appetite. Poor sad wet cat.

The betrayal of there being Two Beds in this inn room, lol. Why are we not respecting the classic fic tropes?

Rand reassuring Mat that he didn't kill that little girl or her family. Rand believing so hard in Mat's goodness maybe partly because he can see that Mat is having a difficult time seeing it in himself.

Even with Nynaeve's coat off, she's still half Green and half Yellow.

Moiraine trying so hard to mentor Nynaeve and she Does Not Want It.

Man, Perrin and Egwene had a much more cheerful journey than either of the other sets. But they get plenty of trauma right now, so they don't need to be jealous.

Once again, the show does such a good job showing us the strength in the Tuatha'an. And this thread will continue into Perrin's storyline in s3, with both Whitecloaks & Tuatha'an. They've done a solid job of tying Perrin to them both.

Loial shows up and immediately calls Rand an Aielman, lol. Poor Rand!

Oh, I see you, Fain!

Oof, people throwing food at Logain and mocking him. Baffled at the people who say the downsides of being a man who can channel weren't shown.

The promise scene between Mat & Rand is so good. Ultimate sad wet cat Mat. I really do love everything about this scene.

I really like our exploration of Stepin's utter and compete grief and emptiness after Kerene's death. How much the other Warders try to help him, how Nynaeve tries to help him but it isn't enough.

Love love what they did with the old rings being melted down (to create new).

Between what happens with the Whitecloaks here and then the Seanchan in s2, Egwene reacting by being as fiercely independent as possible makes all the sense in the world.

The Whitecloaks and Tower novices both wearing all white seems like it might create some emotional dissonance for Egwene, but I understand why the show didn't go there. That's just down to Jordan making too many groups of people wear white.

Oof, the Whitecloak stuff with Egwene & Perrin is hard to watch.

But our first hint of Perrin's golden eyes.

I note how Valda feels about all channelers similarly to how Liandrin feels about male channelers. And then we can get into the Seanchan's dehumanization of channelers as well.

Liandrin trying to bond more with Nynaeve. Has she been having ta'veren dreams? Ishy has had a month to try to figure out at least some of the places where his potential ta'veren have gone.

Our first reunion! It's always such a relief when any of them get to reunite. Man, Mat really does look on the verge of death.

Nynaeve can now join Rand & Mat in the Not Trusting Aes Sedai or Moiraine squad. Oops.

She tells Rand a story about Egwene to reassure him of Egwene's strength, never realizing that it's also the moment when Nynaeve likely channeled for the first time (to heal Egwene).

Perrin shares his deepest shame and secret with Egwene here - that he killed Laila by accident during the battle. So Perrin & Egwene's journey ends up being also very traumatic but the trauma was concentrated into the last day or so of the journey.

And just like was hinted at with the fire, Egwene & Perrin are finding their power at the same time. I wonder if this will happen again with their TAR training in s3? I really hope they run across each other in TAR. Let the characters stay connected!

Liandrin definitely got shot down by Moiraine at some time in the past.

Love the whole "shrine to ward off the Forsaken" thing. Great touch.

Siuan has been off in Caemlyn - was she talking to Elaida about Elayne, or was it about politics?

Moiraine: the White Tower's Woman of Mystery. Everyone wants to know what she's up to!

Alanna got such a glow-up in the show compared to the books. She's great here.

We get another nod to accepted poly relationships (amid the Green Ajah, at least).

Great conversation between Stepin & Lan. And a heartbreaking conclusion to Stepin's little mini-arc of grief and the Warder bond.

1x06

Little baby Siuan! ❤️ ❤️

Our first look at Tear as well.

Such a great way to introduce Siuan, considering they wouldn't have her for more than one episode this season.

And we learn in some places that it's dangerous for a woman to learn to channel - it's not only the Whitecloaks who assume that everyone who can channel is a Darkfriend.

Given that we know now (as of s2) that Moiraine & Siuan are older here than in the books, I wonder if that means her dad has already passed on.

Much like Egwene, Siuan is strongly associated with the water.

(This scene made me tear up too. I've cried three or four times today, I think)

Leane wearing light colors here vs the darker colors she wore in the s3 sneak peek to bash a Darkfriend's head in.

Another scene that gains so much depth on rewatch- knowing about Moiraine & Siuan's relationship & knowing about Liandrin being Black Ajah.

We just saw Stepin choose death in the previous emptiness of losing his bond, now Logain seeks and is refused death while suffering the emptiness of losing his connection to the One Power.

Everyone does still look good here, but the costumes definitely got a glow-up in s2 & again in s3.

The only main player in this scene not playing an elaborate game is Alanna. Siuan and Moiraine are pretending not to be in cahoots, Liandrin is pretending not to be Black Ajah - Liandrin trying to fracture the divides between the Ajahs, and also throwing Moiraine under the bus. A lot of Daes Dae'mar going on.

I also feel obligated to note that around this time frame is the jumping off point of my (now over 500k!) fic series: voice in the back of my head (archiveofourown.org/series/2688649). It is Cauthor-focused (Mat & Rand romance), though it does bring in the canon romances for Rand later on and we have some fun poly relationships going on, and it is currently spoiling through the twelfth book, but each fic in the series says how far that particular fic goes with regards to spoilers. The fic premise is: Liandrin found Rand & co instead of Moiraine finding them, and Rand is motivated enough to instinctively Travel himself, Mat, and Nynaeve to Tear because he wants to escape her.

This fic has been a lot of work and I am pretty proud of it so if you feel at all inclined to read an AU of the series that starts with the idea of "what if we gently slid Mat into Rand's romance situation?" and is a mix of show and book canon... give it a try. If you like it, please let me know your thoughts. <3

Anyway, Moiraine be spying on Rand & co., waiting for Nynaeve & Loial to leave to go talk to Rand & Mat.

Rand's protectiveness over Mat on this scene is really what threw my shipping switches on for them. He pulls a sword on Lan, despite knowing he had no chance against him!

"The world doesn't need a Dragon like me."

But Moiraine has figured out this is something else, not going mad from saidin, and Mat gets healed of the dagger's sickness.

So... was Rand using the One Power to help keep Mat from succumbing to the dagger's pull? Moiraine thinks that Mat shouldn't have been able to resist as long as he did.

We get some Tower politics, and we get the first hints of the Seanchan.

Moiraine is just encountering so much weirdness with these kids. Now there are wolves, she must be thinking to herself. Wolves!

The romance reveal scene! I like this change for several reasons- it's better romance than either gets in the books, it follows naturally from the NS relationship setup, and it adds drama for Moiraine, who did get a bump from mentor figure to being a protagonist.

It also gives the show a chance to show softer and warmer sides to both Moiraine & Siuan. Plus the nice play between duty & love bodes well for other romances.

I love how they reunite and only afterwards does Moiraine let Siuan know about the Dragon. Priorities!

And it makes so much sense that Moiraine has been doubting their prophecies after all this time on the road, while Siuan hasn't been out there with disappointment after disappointment.

This conversation also (unintentionally, given that it was a last-minute change) sets up Moiraine deciding she'd rather have the Reds potentially gentle the Dragon than risk Mat choosing to join the Shadow, because she thinks he's not strong enough to resist.

Ishy deliberately sent Siuan that dream. 😭

Liandrin knows too much. She definitely has been getting Ishy dreams.

Another reunion!

And the convo with Siuan is great. Nynaeve not bowing still cracks me up. Egwene going "wtf, nynaeve can channel? and she's stronger than I am?" with just her face is also hilarious.

Egwene & Nynaeve get a much kinder pep talk from Siuan than poor Rand gets in s2.

Moiraine's exiling is another great, emotional scene. And it also teaches us more about how the Oath Rod works, and sets some reasons in place for the Hall to be wary of Siuan. And sets up some precedents for the future.

And Moiraine trusting and giving more to Siuan than she was asked to give in the Oath - not just exile but obedience. That's gonna hurt a lot when we get to s2.

Even though she literally asked for it, it's obvious how hard it is on Moiraine to see her Sisters turn their backs on her.

But now we do (briefly) get our full Two Rivers reunion, and that is lovely. Hugs all around! Fond teasing! They love each other!

So we know that it wasn't actually the Dark One who was trapped at the Eye, so... it sounds like the knowledge of the location of the Dark One's prison is lost to time. It does make sense that Darkfriends would target that info specifically.

Moiraine not able to tell them that she trusts them, due to her Oaths, is a. so funny and b. makes it mean so much in s2 when she is willing and able to say that she trusts Rand (this is the real reason why it's difficult for me to get on board with The Ruse (TM) theory - because it feels like it would retroactively ruin that 2x07 moment between Moiraine & Rand).

Now that he's pretty sure Mat can't channel and isn't the Dragon, Rand knows deep down who it really is.

But then we lose Barney-Mat at the Waygate and I'm sad!

You can tell this very last scene was shot after the post-covid shutdown, because Maddy (Egwene) lost some roundness in her cheeks during those in-between months and it makes her eyes look a lot bigger.

I adore Donál's Mat but also miss Barney's. The feelings are both very present.

1x07

The Blood Snow! So epic. I love everything about this scene.

I will say, given that we have a stabbed pregnant Tigraine in the side here and it looks like we're getting a flashback to pregnant Morgase in s3, it does feel fairly likely that we will get pregnant Elayne as well, later on in the series. Tigraine gets stabbed the same way that Elayne is described as being stabbed in one of the super-late books (can't remember which, so I'll tag through AMoL) iirc.

Tigraine really did give every ounce of herself to her destiny, and I'm so glad the show version of her got a moment of kindness and compassion at the end.

Moiraine's cynicism about Mat vs Rand's rose-colored glasses about Mat: fight!

Nynaeve doing her job as Wisdom to keep all the kiddos together and make a promise to find Mat later.

"The one thing that we cannot afford is for the Dragon to turn to the Shadow."

Lan trying to cheer Nynaeve up is very sweet.

Egwene wants to sleep near Rand and he lets her this time (contrast to 1x02, when he pushed her away).

I like negging Machin Shin better than the version in the books, I admit it. It's more personal! Just relentlessly dunking on everyone's deepest fears.

Everyone looks so haunted. Poor kiddos.

I don't understand the people who don't understand the big fight. Everyone is so on edge from what they just went through! They are all overly emotional and vulnerable right now. The fight could have been MUCH uglier and still been valid tbh.

Uno! Congrats on your s2 upgrade to Hero of the Horn!

Another confession: I find this Lord Agelmar & Lady Amalisa much more interesting and memorable than the ones in the books. And I was kinda relieved that the show took the whole Five Great Captains thing off the table right away.

I also love their outfits.

Oh, hi, Fain! I suspect we'll get to see more of him in s3.

Min is so much better in the show than the books, omg. Just... on every level. She actually is jaded and world-weary.

"There is a man they must find. A boy, really."

Given that we saw Mat visibly recoil at hearing the Red Ajah mentioned in that s3 clip, I wonder if we're going to see him & Moiraine actually talk about it. I mean, it's in character for both of them to avoid that particular convo, so we will see!

Egwene's little quip at Rand's cooking is cute but I bet contributes to that feeling of Rand's that she doesn't see him as a man but as a boy.

I like how Min's visions were used here. And that she does what Moiraine blackmailed her into but holds back enough to protect what she knows would be the biggest secret (that Rand is the Dragon) because she doesn't feel like it's hers to reveal.

I really love how the shot with the three kids is framed to show the empty chair at the back to emphasis Mat's absence.

Anyway, I like the fight. Characters should be allowed to be messy and argue. Each of them has a perspective and is stubborn about that PoV.

Egwene is right that Moiraine can't lie, but the others are right that she can mislead or withhold.

And I love that the tipping point for the actual fight is Mat & his absence.

And then Nynaeve lobbing a bomb into the conversation as soon as it gets heated enough that she's getting uncomfortable. I mean, they aren't arguing about Mat anymore, at least?

Perrin's super-close "the only woman I've ever loved is my wife" and the hot five seconds that I shipped Perrin & Rand (but then Mat was mentioned in Rand's 1x08 fantasy world and I was right back to Cauthor lol).

I like that Lan had Malkieri friends alive in Fal Dara & I'm pretty stoked about the s3 Melindhra spoilers as well. Very cool to dive more into those relationships than we did in the books. Nynaeve getting an introduction to Lan's people & culture! After he got to know hers in 1x01! Very nice.

Jump-scare Lan does crack me up.

Anyway, good for Nynaeve and Lan for hooking up when they think there's a chance they might die in the morning.

Rand struggles with coming to terms with being the Dragon but Egwene thinks this is all about the big fight earlier. So they are having two different conversations right now.

Hey, in light of this convo- Rand is going to go to, well, Tar Valon anyway. Maybe not the White Tower itself. We'll see if he gets a doorway visit or not.

But this is Rand's big final burst of denial before he goes and talks to Min, confirming to himself that he's the Dragon, as he's tried not to believe that he is. So we've now had two instances of Randgwene sex used to delay or avoid an important conversation.

I am... very curious if the pattern continues in s3. Pretty sure they'll sleep together again, from what we've gotten in the trailers & such, but I am curious about the framing & context.

This montage of Rand accepting the truth about himself gives me chills.

Min's exhaustion here makes her so relatable.

I am so glad Tigraine had someone to hold her hand at the end. That she saw that her son would be taken care of.

"Rainbows and carnivals and three beautiful women." 😍

Elayne only three episodes away (2x02, right?), and Aviendha a little bit after that, but they are on their way! And this is our first hint about them.

1x08

3000 years ago, whoo!

Love their outfits.

Love the choice to have the AoL scenes in the Old Tongue.

LTT is perfect. Genuinely so good.

And the gut punch of seeing how technologically advanced the world used to be. It was a magitek utopia (or at least seemed that way to them).

I do wish that Rafe & co could have brought their original vision of this episode to life, because it is so devastating to go over all the things they lost (a principal actor! Their original Blight location! Their stunt team! Even more that I can't recall at the moment too I bet) but they did so much with what they had. I am so fucking impressed.

"I love him, Perrin." And then she thinks he died to save all of them. Yeah they do need to finish things off properly in the show.

Lan 100% thinks that going after Moiraine right now means his death, hence the sweet but flowery speech to Nynaeve here.

Ishy and Rand come face to face. I wonder who Ishy thought the Dragon was (he says he didn't expect it to be Rand). I love the reveal of Ishy's true face. And trying to touch Rand's face right away lol.

"Stubborn as ever, Lews."

The convo between Moiraine & Rand is interesting (all of them are) but partly because Moiraine doesn't actually say that she believed it was Egwene. I think she hoped it was Egwene but that's not quite the same. And Rand doesn't ever really think it was Egwene either, except maybe at the start, because we know he was worried it was Mat during that month of them journeying together.

Hey, the horrible bully from Moiraine's story! We're gonna meet her in s3. Because that story is about Elaida. She beat a novice with the One Power to force her to channel.

Min is very amusing in the show. I like her a lot. I really like that we get to go on an emotional journey along with Min about the downsides of having her viewings in s2, instead of it all happening before we show up in her life.

Again, really like the relationship between the siblings here - Lord Agelmar & Lady Amalisa. It's sweet.

"Let us hope we will buy the women and men of this world enough time to stand a fighting chance."

Rand recognizes the place where he locked Ishy up years ago. Love that we get to see that moment in s2.

Moiraine talking about the Tower's histories getting destroyed by Darkfriends. Very important note, I feel.

And Ishy springs his win-win trap. There was no actual way for Rand to win here, because he didn't know who he was fighting.

I've mentioned this before but I love that the show split up the battle into philosophical (Rand) vs physical (everyone else) because that's the Last Battle too. Rand's fight is a philosophical one and it always was. The Power is there to get him to where he needs to be to make that choice.

Our mention of Mat in Rand's temptation world, where Egwene is clearly being fondly exasperated but not truly annoyed. So, you know, like how Rand feels about Mat.

Ishy plays with his food, taunting and shielding Moiraine.

Perrin and Loial's friendship being a throughline for all three seasons, getting to know each other here, spending more time together in s2, and Loial going home with him in s3.

Rand struggling against a hollow perfect reality. Major, major foreshadowing for the endgame so I'm glad I already listed amol spoilers.

And Rand also needs to forcibly let go of Egwene and his dream of their life together in order to wake up from his encounter with Ishamael, something that Egwene doesn't get the opportunity to do, because the boyfriend she recently reunited with heroically died in order to save the world (to her understanding). So Rand and Egwene go into s2 (and presumably s3) with very different contexts about where their relationship left off.

You know, in retrospect, it's so appropriate that the Horn was being guarded by one of the Heroes.

Ishy is so smug here because he really does win no matter what. Tbh I feel like waking up Lanfear was his big mistake in s2. Because her agenda is different enough from his that they ended up conflicting, even though they share an LTT obsession.

That being said, even though this is a win-win for Ishy, what Rand learns here can/will help him win the Last Battle. So it works out in the long run.

Rand & Moiraine believe that the Last Battle is won, so she's willing to let him wander off to die in the wilderness if he wants... and then she kicks herself forever when she realizes how wrong she was. Like, it's Moiraine & Siuan's plan that fully releases Ishy. They thought they could do an endrun around the prophecies (which Moiraine has to be fully aware that Rand has not accomplished!).

As Moiraine might say "the arrogance".

Love the setup here at the end by Fain.

"Rand may be the Dragon but all five of you have a part to play."

And Moiraine. "This wasn't the Last Battle. I fear it was the first."

And our great intro to the Seanchan and how wildly different they are to anything we've already seen.

Tomorrow, I'll start rewatching s2 and see how far I get!

[hotchscoffeecup]

those things will kill you

pairing: javier peña x dea!reader

tags: gun violence, broken glass injury, bullet wounds, blood, no y/n

word count: 5k

summary: attacked in a public bar, javier takes you back to his apartment to get you cleaned up and tend your wounds. an almost kiss leads to an exploration of feelings neither of you were prepared for.

as always, big thanks to muffin for always being willing to help beta my fics <3

The bartender places a bottle of beer, sweaty with condensation, in front of you on the bar top.

After uttering a short thank you in Spanish, you leave a couple of bills on the counter and twist your fingers around the neck of the bottle. The beer is cold and slides down your throat easily, but it tastes bitter in your hollow stomach.

You run your tongue over your teeth and tsk, shaking your head wondering how you ended up in this mess. Everything seems like it’s going to hell in a handbasket and all the government wants to do is tie your hands and everyone else’s in the search for Escobar.

You hate how it all keeps you up at night; the cat and mouse. For every inch you eked closer, Escobar always seemed to be a mile ahead. Even when he is right under your nose, he evades capture and disappears without so much as a trace of evidence.

You think too far too deeply about Pablo Escobar and you know it affects your work. How can the same man who built homes and schools for the poor of his hometown be the same man that would blow up a city street full of school children and their families a week before school starts? The thought of it keeps you awake at night because you genuinely cannot fathom how such a disconnect can exist in the human mind. He is a drug lord. A killer. A criminal. But he was also someone’s child, someone’s husband, someone’s father. Could he really justify all of this cruelty and malice? You wonder when enough stopped being enough for him. You wonder if a reality existed where he was just that, a man of the people. A family man. In another life, maybe he could’ve actually maintained a seat in the Colombian congress. In all his posturing and speech making, he really did exude all of the makings of a good politician that wanted to see a better and more prosperous Colombia. Instead, he became that which instilled fear in the hearts of those that called the great nation their home.

The clipped click of a lighter snaps you out of your own mind and the sounds of the bar pull you out from under the sea of thoughts you’d lost yourself in.

“Real sharp instincts there,” Javier jabs as he drags on the cigarette between his lips and settles into the seat beside you. “Glad I’m not a sicario. Getting the jump on you would be all too easy now, wouldn’t it?”

“Fuck off, Peña, I’m not in the mood.”

“What happened? Get in trouble with the ambassador or something?”

You direct a hard stare in his direction and that seems to speak for itself.

“It’s an adjustment for everyone. He’s definitely more of a tight ass, but he’ll get used to the way things operate down here. Give it time.”

You scoff. “Easy for you to say. All you and Murphy have to do is posture and dick swing your way into his good graces. It’s not that easy for me.”

The bartender nears your end of the bar and inclines his head towards Javier. He gestures towards the drink in your hand with his cigarette and says, “Lo mismo, por favor.”

With a drink now in hand, he turns towards you and levels his deep brown eyes on yours.

“Cut the crap.”

Your brow arches toward your hairline. “Excuse me?”

The corners of his eyes crinkle as one side of his lips quirks up. “I’m not buying this ‘I’m-a-lady-so-I-have-to-work-twice-as-hard’ bullshit. You’re a damn good agent and that’s why you’re here with me and Murphy. Ambassador knows that. So, why don’t you tell me what’s really bothering you?”

He takes a swig of his beer and swallows hard. Pointing the bottle at you he says, “and to be clear, I’m not swinging my dick around for anyone.” His eyes flicker over your face and a glint of mischief enters his gaze. “Unless they ask nicely of course.”

You drop your chin and shake your head. “Just when I thought you were being genuine.”

“Hey, I am genuine,” he protests. He pops the cigarette between his lips and grabs your shoulder, the warmth of his palm pressing through your jacket. “C’mon, what’s really eating you?”

You grab the bottle in front of you and swirl the pale liquid inside, forming a small tornado when you still your hand. “I just haven’t been sleeping, that’s all.”

Javier drops his hand from your shoulder to take the cigarette from his lips and blows out a puff of smoke, angling his mouth away from you but the acrid smell still manages to burn your nostrils.

“Those things will kill you, you know?”

Javier smirks and you hate how good it looks on his smug face. “We work in Bogotá. A lot of things can kill us.”

“No need to tempt fate.”

He moves from side to side as if weighing his options. “Cigarettes, alcohol, working too hard trying to prove ourselves that we don’t sleep at night…we all have our vices.” His eyes linger on yours and you suddenly feel vulnerable being called out like that.

“Consider the reasons I don’t sleep, Javi.” You drain the last of your beer and push the bottle away from you.

You press your hands against the edge of the bar, but before you can push yourself up and off of the barstool, Javier claps a hand over one of your wrists, stilling you.

“You can talk to me, you know?” The browns of his irises flicker as they bear into yours and the hollow pit in your stomach widens. You know you can talk to him. Steve too. It’s just hard to be too vulnerable down here though when there’s so much pressure coming down from all angles. If you even look like you might collapse under the weight of it all you’ll get rotated back to the States so quickly, you won’t even get the chance to say goodbye. This is the opportunity of a lifetime for you and you can’t squander it. So, it stays easy to lock it down, despite the consequences.

So, you do just that and lock it down. Forcing a smile you know doesn’t reach your eyes, you shake off his hand and zip up your jacket. “I’m fine, Peña. I’ll see you in the morning.”

He presses his lips together, but doesn’t say anything more. He nods his head in farewell and you turn to leave.

You take two steps before your name rolls off of his tongue and you roll your eyes. “Peña, I’m—” The words die on your lips as you turn, eyes drifting past Javier to the pair on the motorcycle beyond the glass window that makes up the external wall of the bar. The man on the back of the motorcycle aims an automated weapon in Javier’s direction.

“Everybody get down!” You cry out as all hell breaks loose.

You’re airborne as the glass shatters and the explosive sounds of gunfire fill the space. You collide with a thick wall of muscle and hit the ground hard, covering your head with one arm and shielding his body with the other. The gunfire stops almost as soon as it had started and the sound of tires squealing on the pavement echoes off the street.

Patrons scream and cry out as they scramble over one another to evacuate the space. You roll onto your side and groan as shards of glass cut into your arms through the thin windbreaker you have on.

“Javier,” you groan as you reach for him. He’s moving so you know he’s alive. You lean over him and his shocked visage. “Javi, are you with me?”

He blinks hard out of whatever stupor he’s in and sits bolt upright. “Which direction did they go?” He turns his head to look over his shoulder and the gaping frame where shards of glass poke out of the windowsill like jagged teeth.

“They’re gone,” you say on an exhale. “Are you alright? Did you hit your head or anything when I tackled you?”

He breathes out a short laugh and you fear he might be in shock. “Did I hit my head? No, I didn’t—” He stops and shakes his head like he’s trying to clear away a fog. His brow pinches as he looks around at the damage. Tables and chairs are upended and cast aside. Broken bottles line the floor where they shattered upon impact off the shelves behind the bar and litter the ground. You’re surprised to find that, miraculously, no bodies littered the ground in the wake of the attack.

A hand cups your chin and you reflexively reach for the gun tucked into your waistband.

Peña raises his other hand in surrender. “I think you might’ve hit yours though.” His eyes shift just above your field of vision and that’s when you feel the hot sticky substance drip down onto your lashes. You raise a hand and touch it, surprised to find a smear of red staining your fingertips when you look at them.

“I think that’s just from the glass. It’s all in my jacket.”

Javier clambers to his feet and dusts off his jeans. Bits of glass hit the floor as it rattles off of his leather jacket, a much heartier material that you wish yours had been made from.

He extends a hand towards you and you take it, wincing as he pulls you to your feet. With a grunt, you tug the zipper down and shrug out of your jacket. There’s no saving the ripped and bloodied material so you drop it on the floor.

“Fuck, you’re hit.”

The words don’t register as Javi closes the gap between the two of you and the smell of cigarettes and cologne envelops you in a strange, yet almost comforting cloud of, well, Javier.

He scrubs a hand over his face as he hesitates to touch you. You hear him muttering to himself, but the words don’t quite register. Funny how a moment ago you were worried about him going into shock.

A sharp sting of pain brings you back to your senses as Javier presses a folded up bar towel to your shoulder. “Hold pressure on that,” he instructs. He turns and reaches back to take your hand in his. “Come on, I’ll get you out of here. I need to get you taken care of.”

And that’s how you find yourself in the passenger seat of Javier Peña’s Jeep with blood seeping through a dirty bar rag onto the upholstery of his passenger seat. At some point he reaches over you and retrieves the satellite phone from within the glove box to call in the attack.

“No, Murphy. I’m fine. She’s fine. Minor wounds it seems. No—no, don’t wake Connie. I’ve got a kit at my apartment. Yes, I’ll keep an eye on her. I’ve already called the Ambassador and Martinez. Yeah, yeah. Ok, goodnight. I’ll call you if anything happens.”

By the time he pulls into his garage, the adrenaline wears off and the sharp sting of pain in your shoulder becomes glaringly obvious. Javier gets out and moves to open the door for you. He places a supporting hand under your uninjured arm as you maneuver your way out of the car in the confined space. Your body brushes against the firm plane of his as you do and you don’t miss the way he stiffens in response.

“Let’s get you inside,” he murmurs and drops his hand to the small of your back to guide you towards the door.

His apartment is simple, built in the same style as yours and Murphy’s. They all share the same furniture and simple decorations, though yours doesn’t have quite the number of liquor bottles perched on various surfaces and vaguely remember what he’d mentioned about vices at the bar. The smells strongly of him, of his earthy cologne and cigarette smoke. You’ve grown used to it from sitting across from him at work for the last six months. There’s something oddly comforting about it even though the amount he and everyone else smokes bothers you to no end.

“Why don’t you sit down?” He says, gesturing toward the couch.

You do as he suggests and sit on the couch, only on the edge though. You don’t want to ruin the upholstery like you’d done with his car. Plus, you’re fairly certain there’s still small shards of glass embedded in the skin of your back and the idea of pressing those in any further makes you queasy.

Javi disappears into the bathroom, muttering expletives under his breath in English and in Spanish. He returns with a small red first aid kit, a couple of wash clothes, and a bottle of rubbing alcohol.

He climbs onto the couch and perches on the back of the sofa, his legs spread on either side of your body. “Hold these,” he says, and doesn’t wait to dump the items into your lap.

With gentle hands, he peels the bar rag up and off your shoulder. “Good,” he sighs. “Bleeding’s stopped. Let’s get you out of this shirt.”

You turn your head over your shoulder to look at him from beneath an arched brow and he immediately doubles back. “So we can clean this properly and make sure there isn’t any more glass. Get your mind out of the gutter.”

“Funny, I thought you liked it there.” Your lips curve into a wicked smile. “I know what you meant, but it is fun to watch you squirm.”

Javier shakes his head and you turn back around to pull your tank top up and over your head. You try to do it with one arm to avoid aggravating your shoulder, but the movement jostles the joint and you hiss between your teeth. Javi catches your hand as you try to pull it over the injury and takes over guiding it up and over the wound. He discards your tank top on the ground and sucks in a breath.

“What, Jav? You see women in their bras, or without them, all the time. Relax.”

“No, it’s not that. Wait, what—”

You smirk to yourself. “What’s the problem?”

“It’s just on second thought, I think we ought to move to the kitchen. There’s more light there and there’s still some glass stuck in and around where the bullet clipped you.”

He gently lays the towel back down over the open wound on your shoulder and you follow him to the kitchen and drop your keys and gun onto the counter before perching on one of the bar stools. He kicks the nearby waste paper basket next to the empty stool beside you and arranges the first aid items onto the counter, opening the kit and withdrawing gloves, tweezers, gauze pads, and roller bandages. He zips the kit shut, determining he has everything that he needs and places it in his lap as he sits down.

A strange silence settles over the two of you as he snaps on the pair of latex gloves and sets to work. He removes the soiled rag from your shoulder and drops it into the trash. The pinch and sting of him pulling glass from within and around your injuries dulls over time and you watch as the tiny pile of red stained shards grows on the counter next to you.

“You know there wouldn’t be so much of this if you hadn’t fallen directly on top of me.”

Javier scoffs. “You’re right. Next time we’re in a firefight, I’ll let you fall on me.” The tweezers lock on to another small shard and you grimace as he pulls it free. “I think that was the last one.”

He unscrews the plastic cap from the bottle of rubbing alcohol and soaks a washcloth with it. “This is probably going to hurt worse, but we gotta get this cleaned up.”

You nod. “I know, go ahead.”

When he’s cleaning the dried blood from off and around the skin, it just grazes over small cuts and scrapes that feels more annoying than anything else. It’s when he passes over the open wound in your shoulder that a curse slips past your lips and tears well in your eyes.

“Fucking shit, that hurts.”

“I know,” Javi says apologetically. “We definitely don’t want you to get any infection though.” He swipes the cloth over the injury three more times and just when you start to wonder if he’s a sadist, he finally declares he’s finished and drops the washcloth into the trash. The cool air blowing from the nearby AC unit dries the alcohol and relieves the burning sting. He replaces it with a fresh gauze pad and holds it in place with his left hand while his right works the roller bandage into position. He works quickly and quietly as he winds it around your shoulder and bicep. After securing a knot in the bandage, he sits back and nods affirmatively, content with the job he’s done.

“Now let me see your forehead. We oughta get that cleaned up as well while I’ve got you here.”

You’d almost forgotten about the cut above your eye with the adrenaline wearing off and the pain in your shoulder growing more severe. You reach up absentmindedly and brush your fingers against the now dried and flaking blood stuck in your eyebrow. Javi spills some alcohol onto a gauze pad and your breath catches when he touches the tips of his opposite hand beneath your chin to tilt it towards the overhead light.

He swipes at the dried blood and scrubs it free from your eyebrow. When he passes over the shallow cut, you wince and he apologizes. When it’s clean, he peels open the wrapper on a butterfly bandage and uses the tips of his fingers to try to place it so it’ll pull the cut closed. A small smile tugs at your lips as you watch him press his tongue to his bottom lip as his fingers tremble ever so slightly as he makes sure the small ends of the bandage don’t tear.

“There,” he whispers when he’s sure it’ll stay put. His face is so close to yours and the breath catches in your throat when his eyes drop to yours. “Just like new.”

Time slows to an absolute standstill and you feel yourself inextricably drawn to him, as if there’s some tether pulling you towards him and you really start to wonder if you did hit your head harder than you thought in the chaos because you’re pretty sure he’s also leaning in towards you, which would be crazy because he’s your coworker, but he’s also tilting his head and his face is incredibly close to yours…

Reality snaps back into place like a rubber band against skin when the first aid kit resting on his thighs clatters to the ground. You immediately pull away and drop down off of the stool to pick it up and Javier immediately chastises you doing so.

“Dammit!” He curses and your name sounds sharp on his tongue. “You’ve barely stopped bleeding, don’t jerk yourself around like that.” He snatches the first aid kit from you and splays a hand under your elbow to pull you back up to a standing position. He tosses the kit onto the counter and stalks off into the living room leaving you at the bar wondering what the hell is driving this one-eighty in behavior as he paces back and forth across the carpet.

“Damn, Peña. I’m not going to bleed out on your kitchen floor.” You smirk. “Your jeep, maybe,” you suggest, trying to make light of the sudden tension in the room.

Javier either doesn’t or chooses not to hear you. He loops his thumb through one of his belt loops as he shakes his head and mutters under his breath. “I don’t need this right now.”

Your brow pinches and you hate the heat that rushes to your cheeks. You shuffle your weight from foot to foot and suddenly feel like you’re taking up too much space in the small apartment as he increases the space between you and him. This errant behavior is giving you more whiplash than when you’d taken him to the ground and you’re about to call him out on it, when, without another word, he turns and ducks into his room.

Irritation quickly replaces whatever vulnerability you’d just been feeling. “What the hell does that mean?” You ask, your words clipped and demanding. You walk towards the sounds of him rummaging around inside drawers and come to an abrupt halt as he strides out of his bedroom and presses a ball of fabric into your chest. “This,” he says by way of explanation and takes a dramatic step away from you.

“And by this you mean what exactly?” You know exactly what the this in question is, but you want to hear him say it. Frankly, you’re just as surprised by whatever just happened between you and him, but you’ve worked with each other long enough now to know when the other is severely bullshitting their way through a situation and you have no intention of letting him get away with it.

The smell of his detergent wafts up around you from the shirt in your hands and you take the opportunity to try to awkwardly shrug into it without aggravating the freshly dressed wound. It’s hard to start an argument and be taken seriously when you’re standing toe to toe with someone and you’ve only got on jeans and a black lace bra after all.

As you fumble with the buttons on his shirt, he takes a resigned step backwards and collapses onto the couch. He gestures vaguely at the space between the two of you. His voice is softer when he speaks, tired. “All of this. God.” He runs a hand through his hair and falls back into the cushions. “You,” he says, eyes briefly meeting yours and then at the ceiling.

Your fingers pause mid-fastening. “What about me?”

Javier shakes his head. A wry smile pulls at his lips, rife with disbelief, and it fades as quickly as it comes. “You nearly died tonight.”

You arch a brow and direct a knowing look at him. “Javi, not sure if you were paying attention but we both nearly died tonight. I mean, things moved a little quickly for me to break out my calculator and add shit up, but I don’t think all 30 or 40 of those rounds were meant just for me. I think they were aimed at both DEA agents and they didn’t give a fuck who else got caught in the crossfire.”

“That’s not the point,” he responds resolutely.

“Then tell me what is.”

He doesn’t answer, but sits up and pulls the half crushed pack of cigarettes from his back pocket and slips one between his teeth. As he rolls his thumb over his lighter, you feel your already short fuse ignite. Without giving it a second thought you step forward and snatch the cigarette from between his lips.

“Hey!” He protests, nostrils flaring.

You snap the stick of tobacco in front of him and toss it to the floor. “Enough of the theaterics, Peña.” You stare directly into his eyes, refusing to let him get away with ignoring you. “Quit bullshitting me and tell me what’s really on your mind.”

The sound of the wall clock ticking fills the space and the silence is unbearable, but you refuse to be the first to break. Fifteen more uncomfortably strained seconds tick by before he drops his gaze to the floor and scrubs a hand over his face with a heavy sigh.

He slides over on the couch and pats the cushion next to him. “Sit down, will you?”

You do as he asks and situate yourself at an angle towards him with one leg pulled up across your lap.

“Here,” Javi says as he pulls a throw pillow out from behind him and wedges it gently between you and the couch. “I don’t want you to go and tear open anything I got closed.”

You huff out a quiet laugh and thank him, glancing down at his haphazardly buttoned shirt you’ve got on. You notice you’ve completely misaligned what you’d managed to fasten. Ignoring that for now, you kick at his shin and incline your head towards him. “You done with all the tough guy shit?”

Javier presses his lips together and nods. “Yeah, I’m sorry about that. I don’t know what happened. I just—”

“Just what?”

He lifts his eyes to yours and you watch the way his coffee colored irises flicker in the lamplight. “There's just some lines you shouldn’t cross.”

“This is Bogotá,” you say, mirroring his words from earlier. “There’s a lot of lines we shouldn’t cross.”

“I’m serious,” he responds brusquely, eyes darkening as he shuts you out once more.

You sit up straighter, undeterred by his obvious attempts to push you away. “Yeah, well tough shit, so am I.”

The way he speaks your name is laced with frustration and uncertainty. He’s holding back and your own frustration mounts. You’re tired, you’re in pain, and frankly, now you’re just feeling plain stupid. You’d heard rumors of Javier’s extracurricular activities with women. Did you really want to be another notch in his bedpost?

You let out a low, wry chuckle and shake your head. “You know what, Javier?” You push yourself up and off the couch, wincing as you do so, and look down at him. “Give me a call if you figure out what side of the line you stand on.”

You turn and swiftly move towards the door, swiping your keys and gun off of the counter as you do so. You use your good arm to shove your sidearm into the back of your jeans and unlock the deadbolt on Javier’s front door.

You’ve barely pushed the door open when Javier appears at your side and yanks it closed. Before you can protest, he pushes you up against the door and presses his lips to yours in a devastatingly desperate kiss.

You can’t control the moan that rushes from your mouth into his as you kiss him back. He tastes like mint and menthols and you suddenly can’t remember why you hate the smell of cigarettes so much. The cuts along your back and shoulder blades sting as the wood rubs up against the shirt Javier gave you, but with his hands pressed against the expanse of wall on either side of your face, you decide it’s bearable.

That is until you reach up unthinkingly to tangle your hand into his hair and a sharp sting of pain reverberates from your shoulder all the way down to your fingertips.

Javi abruptly breaks off the kiss and his eyes flicker across your face, shining with concern. “Fuck, I’m sorry! I just got caught up in the moment. Did I hurt you?”

You place a placating hand against his chest and feel the erratic beating under your palm. “I’m fine, Jav. Really.”

He licks his lips and you already miss the way they felt against yours. He presses them together and nods. “Good.”

“Good,” you echo. “I guess I should head home though, get some rest. God knows the ambassador is going to want a report on all of this.”

“You got shot, the ambassador can get fucked.”

“Fucked, is what we’re both going to be if we can’t figure out who targeted us.” You sigh and shake off the thought. “I better get going. It’s late.”

Javier stops you from turning to leave. “You’re not walking home alone this late at night.”

“It’s down the street, I’ll be fine.”

“You’re not walking alone.”

“Then walk me home. Your strong male aura will keep danger at a bay,” you add sarcastically.

“No.”

“No?”

“No.”

“Then what do you suppose I do?”

“Simple, stay here. I’ll drive you home in the morning.”

“And sit on all that blood? No thanks.”

“Okay fine, I’ll walk you home in the morning.”

You consider the implications of that and choose the safest route. “S’pose I could sleep on the couch.”

Javier shakes his head. “I’m not gonna make you sleep on the fucking couch. You’ll sleep in my bed.”

“And you’ll sleep where?”

“Next to you,” he says smoothly. “If you’ll let me.”

You arch a brow. “And we’ll just…sleep?”

Javi shoves his hands into the front pockets of his jeans and shrugs his shoulders, his smile smug. “Tonight, yes.” He steps forward and takes a hand from his pocket to cup your face gently in his wide palm. He places a tender kiss upon your lips. “Tomorrow night might be a different story.”

“I think I’d be quite interested in reading that,” you respond playfully.

“It’s different than what I’m used to,” Javier says and then adds, “but I think change might not be a bad thing.”

You give him a once over and nod. “I think you’re right about that.”

He smiles, somewhat sheepishly, as he says, “I’m sorry for being such a dick.”

The corner of your mouth quirks as you shrug your good shoulder. “I’m not sorry I pushed your buttons like that. It’s about time you open up and actually let yourself feel your feelings.”

He rubs his thumb across your bottom lip and then drops his hand to curve around your hip and rest on the small of your back. “Let’s get some sleep, huh?”

And that’s how you find yourself lying in bed next to Javier Peña of all people, wearing his shirt to sleep while he snores softly beside you; and you can’t help but wonder how many things had to happen for you to end up here at this moment. His arm drapes over your waist, pulling you in against the steady warmth of his skin and you find that you quite like the way you fit so perfectly against the crook of his body.

In the comfort of his arms, you drift off into an uninterrupted sleep and for the first time since you can’t remember when you don’t dream of Pablo Escobar.

[skeletonh0e]

Hear me out, OK? What if on a random day you just feel excited, like like Ahmed.This is mine.I love it so much.I'm going gna kiss it all over, but with all the sans ( NSFW or no that is up to you)

I'm keeping it SFW for now, I got plenty of NSFW requests in my drafts (which I love ya'll for)

Get smooched on idiot (ft. The Boys)

Classic Sans:

"oh hey ba-"

Can't even get the words out before you set yourself upon him, smooching all over

And you sure as hell aren't going to hear him complaining

Even if you do it in public

Might get some people telling you to get a room but you sure as hell ain't listening

"Mine, mine, mine," You repeat placing smooches all over his stupid little face, "Loooove you."

The skeleton chuckles, probably covered in god knows how many smooch marks if you're wearing makeup "yeah yeah love ya too"

His entire face just screams content happy fat cat energy

Underswap Sans:

Congrats you have flustered him

Granted he's probably pulled something similar on you before in the past but still! That's different! (Not really)

He'll pout and whine especially if he's in public "honeyyyy im workingggg" but he doesn't make any active effort to stop you

Well he's very squirmy but he's kind of always like that

The magnificent Sans cannot keep losing his composure!

Y/N: "Are you miiiiine?"

Blue, completely flushed: ".....yes-"

He's going you back for this

Underfell Sans:

If you try in public he's grumpliy shoving you off

"none of that soft shit!"

If you try in private he's still gonna complain but just kind of let's you do what you want

He loves it make no mistake he's just a grouch and struggles to express emotions still

He'll say you're being cringe but the moment you actually stop and pullbaway he'll basically just go "i didn't say you could do that"

And pull you back forward

If you do it while he's drunk he's basically just melts in your arms though

Horrortale Sans:

Horror: "What is this?"

Y/N: "Affection!"

Horror: "Disgusting......."

Horror: "Do it again."

For as scary and intimidating as he looks man is a sucker for physical affection, honestly somewhat touch starved and just idly wraps his arms around you while you nearly smooch him to death

Just be meanwhile of the crack in his head though it doesn't hurt but it's definitely sensitive

He nearly purrs or let's out something akin to that, it's more of a soft growl but it's definitely not a sigh of disenouragement

"Mine~" You playfully whisper as you smooch around his neck bone and you get a very gruff "always" in response

Underlust Sans:

"is this my reward for being such a good boy?"

You know the dirty jokes are coming, this is him we're talking about but you enjoy bombarding him with all types of intimacy, sexual or otherwise

And he certainly doesn't mind the attention, though honestly just being completely mushy gushy is a fairly decent way to fluster him

Especially as you dote on him telling him out much you love him

And the fact you get a rare moment of him blushing just makes you wanna do it even more

He's definitely returning a few of them make no mistake and giving you a playful squeeze as he teases you

Fresh Sans:

Takes it as a challenge

Get ready for a smooch war!!

And he's gonna win!!

You two quickly fall to the floor, rapidly kissing and holding each other, occasionally giggling like idiots

The bastard cheats, tickling you in certain areas so he can get the upper hand and you call him out on it

"all is fair in love and war broski!"

"You're lucky I love you"

He definitely documents this all down later, he has a notebook of all he people he kisses and he has a special section dedicated to you in particular

[losers-clvb]

tastes like candy // billy butcher

pairing: billy butcher x female!reader

summary: billy wants a taste of you and you're happy to serve him his new favorite meal.

content: age gap (reader is around 23), use of song lyrics twice, use of "whore", smut, oral sex (female receiving), improper use of the dining table, mention of reader's past sexual experiences, protective butcher if you squint, butcher is reader's father's colleague of sorts

word count: 3.7k

note: direct use of lyrics are from "often" by the weeknd, indirect use of lyrics and the title are from "candy" by doja cat. i love me some karl urban. i'm rewatching "the boys" so prepared to be sick of me and my obsession with butcher and soldier boy.

masterlist

----

You were supposed to be home alone. Your father had left early that morning for the airport, a last minute work trip, and you were planning on spending the day in complete isolation. Between your dorm mate at college, your father wanting dad-daughter time, and the few failed dates, it had been months since you had a chance to just be with yourself.

So, here you were, dancing around the kitchen with your self-proclaimed “ovulation” playlist blaring through the speakers of your phone. You weren’t worried about keeping quiet, after all, who would you disturb? The houseplants?

“Baby, I can make that pussy rain, often,” you sung along with the song. You wouldn’t be caught dead saying things like this in public, but it was fun to do when you were in the mood for it. You slammed the top of the coffee maker down, knowing it would stay closed if you did it any gentler.

“Love, you’ve got a filthy little mouth.”

“Jesus Christ!” You gasped, jumping when you heard the thick British accent cut through your music. You spun around, fingers gripping onto the counter to stabilize yourself. There, standing in the doorway between the kitchen and dining room, was Billy Butcher. You knew this man, one of your father’s old friends. In all honesty, it had been years since you saw the man, and there had been more than one occasion when you heard your father grumbling about the Brit, but somehow he was here.

“Oi, don’t stop on my account.” Billy smirked, then gestured for you to keep moving.

“What the hell are you doing here?” You asked after a centering breath. You turned back to the coffee maker and frowned when you noticed it was filling far slower than you remembered. You could feel eyes on your ass.

“Stayed the night. A favor from your daddy.” Billy answered, tilting his head to really get a good look at your body. If he hadn’t been standing in your house, he wouldn’t have recognized you. The last time he had the pleasure of your company, you were a shy pre-teen with braces and a serious lack of control over your blushing. You had grown in the years, puberty gifting you a good set of breasts and pulling the baby fat off your body in all the right ways.

“He didn’t mention it.” You mumbled, clicking the lower volume button on your phone to a manageable level. You turned your head just enough to watch his eyes trail your body. You couldn’t tell if you were grateful or embarrassed in your clothing choice for the day; a tight pair of leggings and a crop top you otherwise only wore for sleep. Yes, you had harboured a crush on the man since you had met him, even if he had only ever treated you like a little girl. His absence from your life hadn’t done much to squash the feelings and there had been many a-nights when you had gotten off to the mental image of him. Not that you were going to do anything about it. You were a good little daughter, and Billy was your father’s colleague of sorts.

“Nah, I don’t imagine he would. I was supposed to be gone hours ago, love.” You heard the swish of Billy’s coat as he walked into the kitchen. He shuffled through the cupboards like he owned the place, pulling out two mugs for your slow-brewing coffee. You watched him, attention drifting to the top three buttons of his shirt that he had neglected to fasten together.

“Guess you better get going then.” You sighed, snapping your eyes away when he caught you looking. You cleared your throat and reached for one of the mugs. Billy held it just out of reach, causing one of your breasts to brush up against his arm.

“Wonder if dear ol’ dad knows what kinda things you got in that head of yours,” Billy teased. You huffed out a breath and took a step back, crossing your arms. Bad idea. It just pushed your breasts together, making your cleavage peek through the v-neckline of your shirt more. Billy’s tongue shot out to lick his lips, something you didn’t catch.

“You don’t know half the things I think about, Billy.” You defended. He almost thought he had offended you, but then a playful smile crossed your face. You scrunched your nose at him and swiped the mug from his grasp. Billy smirked at the clumsy pour of coffee, watching the dark liquid almost spill. You filled his mug as well, knowing he wasn’t leaving until he got at least a cup in.

“Is that right?” Billy asked, his voice lilting. You nodded, pouring a healthy portion of sugar into your drink. “What keeps the congressman’s daughter up at night?”

You rolled your eyes. Like you needed another reminder of your father’s job, the thing that had caused so many headaches in your life. It even bled into your dating life. Turns out most of the guys you had gone out with just so happened to be political majors, and they were just wondering if you could put in a good word for them. Of course, this all came after you had already faked an orgasm from them.

“It might offend you.” You brushed off. You couldn’t tell him that most nights, you were thinking of him. Thinking of his thick fingers pushing into you, his whiskey-scented breath ghosting over your skin, what dirty things he might growl into your ear. You shuffled into the dining room, taking a seat in a navy-blue upholstered chair at the oak table.

“Darling, not much can offend a bloke like me.” Billy bit out cheekily, sending you a wink when he followed you to the table.

“Mhm,” you hummed. You made a face at him, taking a sip of your coffee. He smiled back at you. You flicked your eyes down to his hands, watching the way his mug was dwarfed in them. You couldn’t manage to pull your attention away when he lifted it to his mouth, drinking down the black liquid. You watched his Adam’s apple bob when he swallowed and hadn’t realized that your lips had slightly parted at the sight until he cleared his throat. You looked up at his eyes, which twinkled in amusement. He knew the effect he had on you, though it wasn’t as if you were trying to hide it.

“Tell me,” Billy started and you knew his next words would be nothing innocent, “does it really taste like candy?” He asked, raising his eyebrows in question. You knew he was referencing one of the songs you had played earlier, but instead of questioning how long he had been watching you, you smirked and held his gaze.

“Only one way to find out.” You shot back at him. Billy seemed shocked by your bold answer, but he didn’t look away. You don’t know what came over you. Maybe it was the weeks of sexual frustration, or the stress of mid-terms. You weren’t usually one to be so direct, but for some reason, with this man who was your father’s age, you couldn’t hold back.

“Now would you look at that,” Billy leaned his back against his chair, “the princess is a dirty little whore.” He set his coffee on the table in front of him. Had anyone else called you a whore, you would have slapped the shit out of them. When Billy did it, the word sent a shock straight to your core. You squeezed your thighs together and stood from your chair.

Billy watched as you sauntered around the corner of the table before standing in front of him. You were looking down at him and when Billy tried to meet your eyes, he caught a glimpse of your hardened nipples under your shirt. He scooted his chair out, fully intending to stand up and sweep you into his arms, but you plopped down onto his lap. Your legs fell on either side of him and your chest was practically flush with his own. The cherry on top was the heat from between your legs seeping through his jeans straight to his cock.

“You want a sample?” You asked, wrapping your arms around his neck. Billy’s hands flew to your ass and he gripped at it, causing you to bite down on your lip.

“I’m having the whole bloody buffet.” Billy answered before crashing his lips into yours. You ground your hips down, moaning into his mouth when you rubbed on the seam of his jeans. He growled and pulled himself to his feet, hoisting you up with him. You didn’t have a chance to wrap your legs around his waist before he had you laid out on the table.

Billy’s hand smoothed over your thigh before finding its destination on your core, cupping itself over the fabric. You rutted your hips up, hoping to create some friction.

“Holy shit, love, you’re practically soakin’ through your trousers.” Billy pulled away to comment. You hummed out an answer, just a noise that told him you needed more. He made quick work of pulling your pants off, dragging your underwear with them. You decided it wasn’t fast enough. You swiped a few fingers through your slick, gathering it up before leaning up to stick them in his mouth. He instinctively wrapped his lips around them, tongue swirling to clean them.

You smiled proudly at him when he groaned at the taste. He released the digits with a pop noise, licking the spit from his lips. His eyes darkened with a wild glaze when he looked down on you.

“Sweeter than sugar.” Billy smirked at you, his own fingers digging into the flesh of your hips. He dragged your ass to the edge of the table, making you fall onto your back. Your head landed on the table runner, softening the blow. Your breathing quickened when he descended to his knees, his face disappearing behind the swell of your chest.

You could only see the top of his head now, his hair peeking at you. You whined when he kissed the insides of your thighs, his lips leaving sloppy, wet spots in their wake. A small bite on the dip where your leg met your pelvis earned him a throaty squeak.

Billy let his mouth linger there, the breath from his nose pushing on your skin softly. You furrowed your eyebrows, staring at his inky black locks. You expected him to go right into it to get it over with, just as every other man had done to you. This was different. He was taking his time with you.

“Bi-,” you started to say, but that’s when he decided to make his move. You felt his tongue swipe up your center, a groan vibrating through him. You threw your head back when he swirled his tongue around your clit. You bent your legs up, desperate to move some part of your body, and he used a hand to guide them over his shoulders.

You swallowed down a moan. Billy noticed this, noticed you holding back. He flexed his jaw, determined to pull every little noise out of you. He landed a light slap on your clit, smiling at the cry of pleasure.

“I don’t like quiet breakfasts, love.” He told you before lowering his mouth down onto you again. You moaned at the feeling. His lips, his tongue, his teeth. It all created a sensation that you hadn’t felt before. Somehow, it was too much and not enough at the same time. You snaked your hands down your body. Ultimately, they ended up on Billy’s, your fingertips brushing over his calloused skin.

You whimpered with his movements. You had been eaten out a few times in your life. The men you had been with always claimed to be gods at the act, hyping themselves up in between small licks. There had been one particularly cocky guy who spent more time talking than actually doing anything. From what you remember, he gave y0u about three and a half pitiful licks before jumping up to stick his dick in you, leading to a very unfulfilling night.

This was completely different.

Billy was calculated, taking his time to pull you apart. For the first time since you’d known him, he was giving his mouth a job separate from the cocky remarks and half-baked lies. You wondered if he had much experience in this. You knew he had a wife, but you had only met her once before she disappeared. Did he eat her like this, with a hunger you had only seen in stray dogs?

You choked on a breath when he twisted his head to the side, tongue dipping into your hole. He was exploring you. You wished you could see his face, wish you could watch him work away at you. The stress from college classes and any guilt you may have felt from letting a man fifteen-plus years older devour you on the dining room table flew out the window with every passing minute. You moaned, your previous gentle hold on his hands tightening. Billy twitched his index and middle fingers up subconsciously, wrapping them around a few of your fingers.

You couldn’t believe this was happening. You had dreamed about this since you were in high school, but you never imagined it would actually come to life. It was better than the scene you had conjured in your head, better than anything you could have even come up with. You rolled your hips into his face, his nose bumping against your clit.

You felt like a meal with the way he had you spread out. A flash of you the night before, eating dinner with your father while he talked about a senator’s son you might be interested in befriending -- a hint that he expected you to befriend him. You had nodded along, knowing there was no chance in hell that you would have anything in common with the boy. You were pursuing similar degrees, but then again, so were half of the politicians’ children you had met. You made a mental note to thoroughly disinfect the table after all of this, even if the housekeepers would take care of it after the weekend. You weren’t exactly keen on making Stephanie wipe up your cum.

You felt a rush of lightning shoot to your lower stomach, making you clench around his tongue. He hummed an encouraging noise, the vibration running straight to your clit.

“Ohmygod,” you rushed out, bucking your hips up. Your feet tucked under Billy’s arms in the process. The knowledge that he had the strength to pick you up and walk around with you perched on his shoulders pulled a gasp out. You arched your back with your release, grateful that Billy continued to work you through it with his lips.

Once you had relaxed onto the table, chest heaving, he stood. You were able to see his face now. His lips were swollen, cheeks flushed, and beard soaked with a mixture of his spit and you. You fluttered your lashes at him, hands slipping from his when you reached to brush a few strands from your face.

“Look at this sight!” Billy exclaimed, spreading his arms out to gesture to you. You rolled your eyes, lips parting to sigh out softly. Leave it to Billy Butcher to run his mouth after eating a girl out. “A lovely lady spread out like a proper meal, practically screamin’ my name when I’ve had my fill.”

“I did not scream your name.” You defended, propping yourself up on your elbows. You raked your eyes over his body. Not much of his skin showed, but you still felt yourself heat back up down there. You wanted this, wanted him. If you were going to have your teenage dreams brought to life, you would make sure all of them would be given a chance. You sat up completely and your fingers flew to the sides of his coat. You wiggled the fabric down his arms.

“Are you really that fuckin’ horny?” Billy asked, astonished at your quick movements. You faltered in pulling his coat off, stopping at the bend of his elbows. You looked up into his eyes, a playful smirk shooting across your face.

“If you can’t get it up, just say that.” You teased. He sucked on his teeth before pushing his lips into yours. You kissed him like he was oxygen in smoke-filled lungs. His hands brushed under your shirt, gruff fingers finding a home just under your breasts. You, without breaking the kiss to look, unbuttoned his shirt, pushing it open to reveal his chest.

You whimpered into his mouth when he wrapped a hand around one of your breasts, squeezing with a measured pressure. You pulled away to lift your shirt over your head. You threw it in a random direction and it landed haphazardly hanging off a rather expensive sculpture your father had purchased. Billy immediately bent down to tease your nipples, the chill of his drying spit bringing goosebumps to your skin.

“Enough of this foreplay, Butcher.” You breathed out, hands resting gently on his head while you cradled his face to your chest.

“Aye, aye, captain.” He mumbled into your breast cheekily. His hand trailed to the front of his jeans, quickly unbuttoning and pushing them down. He slid his coat and shirt off, letting them drop to the floor. He was standing there in only his boxers and you immediately ogled the tent in the fabric.

You were just about to hook a finger around the waistband when the doorbell rang out, announcing a visitor. You stiffened. No one was supposed to come here today. You were supposed to have a quiet morning to yourself, maybe watch a few movies. Of course, those plans had flown out the window when Billy made his presence known. Still, who was at the door?

They pushed the doorbell again, then knocked impatiently. You jumped off the table, bare feet hitting the floor. Your eyes searched for something easy to throw on and landed on Billy’s coat. It would have to do. He sent you a wolf whistle while you tied it shut. You glared at him but there was no heat in it. How could there be when your cum was still shining on his chin?

You hurried over to the door after yet another ring of the doorbell. Jesus, you thought. Whoever the hell was at the door knew you were home and they weren't leaving without acknowledgement. You twisted the bronze door handle and yanked the door open, letting the bright sun shine into the house.

There standing on your doorstep with a battered textbook on his hand, was Jimmy Lovitz, your lab partner in chemistry. He sent you a crooked smile, one that you were far too familiar with. You narrowed your eyes at him in question. He was in no way a selfless individual, so you doubted he had driven the hour from campus to deliver your textbook.

“Hey baby.” Jimmy said, eyes scanning your body. You rolled your eyes. Yep, he definitely had ulterior motives.

“I told you not to call me that, James.” You reminded him, using his legal first name to further prove your point. You had gone on one date with the boy and suddenly he thought he held some sort of possession on you.

“Oh, you seemed to like it when I had you down on your knees.” Jimmy defended. You scoffed out a breath, crossing your arms. You were about to answer when a hand snaked around your waist, landing on your stomach protectively. You looked up and behind you to see Billy leaning up against the doorframe. He had chosen to not dress himself before joining you, his boxers being the only thing between him and the rest of the world. Jimmy balked at him for a moment, obviously not expecting you to have any company. “This your dad?” He asked, pointing behind you.

“You know it’s not.” You bit back at him. Fortunately for him it wasn’t. If he had used that rude tone on your father, he would have shown Jimmy exactly what training they used to give the Marines back in the day. You leaned back into Billy’s chest.

“Mmm, right.” Jimmy answered, nodding while sizing Billy up. The older man had about eight inches and forty pounds on Jimmy, all of it wrapped up in a mouth-watering body. He met your eyes again, but his attention was caught on Billy curling a strand of your hair around his finger. He was showing off, moving your hair just enough to show more of your collarbone, silently bragging to the world of the woman he had in his arms. 

“I thought we could study together. Work on our chemistry, you know?” Jimmy said suggestively, smirking at you. You couldn’t believe him. Couldn’t he see you were already busy?

“Sorry mate, we’re focused on anatomy right about now.” Billy said slyly before you could speak. You bit back a chuckle when you saw Jimmy’s face morph into annoyance. “I was just about to teach the princess here about the male genitalia.”

“She’s already familiar with it, mate.” Jimmy shot back. It was meant to demean you, maybe, but you were more focused on the erection poking into your back.

“Thought I’d give her a larger specimen to observe.” Billy tilted his head at the younger man. “Now, why don’t you fuck off and give a good wank into your favorite sock.”

“You fuckin’ asshole.” Jimmy seethed out, taking a step forward. He didn’t enjoy being insulted, especially when they were true. You snatched your textbook from his hands.

“Goodbye Jimmy.” You told him. You could see he was about to try -- and fail -- at picking a fight with Billy, but before he could, Billy swept you into his arms. He threw you over his shoulder, giving Jimmy a good look up the coat that was wrapped around you. You giggled while he backed into your house, slamming the door in Jimmy’s face.

“Where were we?” Billy asked cheekily, giving the side of your thigh a quick peck.

[onlyangel4]

booking of the century. drew mcintrye. part two.

drew mcintyre x returning!reader

part one

synopsis: triple h books you four years since your last match and a lot has changed but the man you fell in love with all those years ago still has your heart.

warnings: slow burn. will be multiple parts. loss of a parent after medical event. angst (more to come).

∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•∘

"look what the cat dragged in", jon hollered as soon as he spotted you outside the airport dragging your suitcase behind you.

“i swear down i will turn around and get on a plane home”, you laughed shaking your head, arms instinctively opening for trinity to run into.

“nope, i'm going to hug you as tight as possible so you never leave me again”, the woman teased from inside your arms making you laugh again as jon grabbed your suitcase putting it into the trunk of the car.

“i still can’t believe boss man left us in charge of the biggest secret in modern wrestling”, jon exclaimed getting into the driver’s seat.

“it’s not that big of a secret, shaun and luis know as well”, you spoke but in reality you knew jon was right. other than the top dogs in production only four fellow wrestlers knew exactly what was going to happen tonight, the last smackdown before the chamber. It was a massive secret, one that you thought you would be unable to pull off but everything had slipped into place and now it was only a few hours before your highly anticipated return.

∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•∘

getting to the stadium had been a huge blur, you had sat in the backseat in silence just listening to the friendly bickering from your two close friends in the front but your mind was somewhere else, it was stuck on him. he had no idea that you were coming back, how would he react? would he be angry at you for not telling him? only time would tell, and that made bile rise in your throat.

drew had been the person who believed in you when no one else did, he was the person who would drag you out of bed to train on your off days, he was your biggest fan and greatest inspiration, so surprising him in such a way felt wrong but hunter had convinced you that it was best for business, for both of you.

sometimes your mind wandered back to what could have been between the both of you, stuff was so fresh when your mother got ill, but if it had just been a year in the future maybe you would have let drew come home with you, maybe you would have let him support you in the way that he wanted to. but you couldn’t get hung up on maybes and what ifs. looking after your mother had been your number one priority and you had done your duty, now it was time to get back to work.

∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•∘

a squeal pulled you out of your thoughts, you had arrived at the stadium and the back door of the car had been swung open, on the other side stood one of your closest friends, “there’s my girl” steph barely gave you enough time to get out of the car before her arms engulfed you in a mighty hug.

“jesus girl maybe you should be the one getting back in the ring, with all that strength of yours”, you teased your friend playfully before being led through a back entrance that had been specifically cleared for you.

“i feel like the president or some shit”

steph just shook her head at you before pulling you into a small room, “okay so you can get ready in here, hair and make up will come in here in about an hour, only let someone if they knock twice alright”, she spoke her voice turning professional.

“steph are you sure this is all necessary”

“yes we can’t have news of your return getting out this close to it, the internet is going to go mad”

you spoke to steph for about half an hour before she left to go to some sort of last minute meeting, then the hair and make up ladies came to the room and sorted you out ready for the show. the whole time you were in your own little world. part of you could not believe that this was really happening, that you were really back. another part of yourself was angry that you had not returned earlier, you missed the electric atmosphere that hung in the air pre show, the anticipation for what was going to come.

eventually enough time had lapsed and two knocks told you that it was time to go, you swung the door open and you were met with a familiar face, luis also known as damian priest, “i wasn’t going to believe that you were back until i saw you”

“in the flesh”, you smiled at the man

“we are on in five, you ready to go?”

“as ready as i’ll ever be”

∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•∘

drew did not know what to expect. he had been told to go out and shoot a promo ahead of the elimination chamber, talking about how he was going to win the chamber in a ruthless way, he had also been warned that there was going to be an interruption but that was all he knew. when drew had voiced worry about not knowing what to say when he did not have time to prepare hunter had just patted him on the back and said, “trust me, you will know exactly what to say”, the ominous reassurance from his boss left drew with more questions than answers.

but as a guy who always did what he was told drew just nodded and now he was stood in the centre of the ring, mic in his hands a mixture of cheers and boos radiating from the audience, something that made the scottish psychopath smirk as he cleared his throat.

“after tomorrow i am going to be the king of toronto”, the crowd booed in rebellion

“aw don’t be so sad, you are going to get the match of a lifetime, you get to watch me lay out all of your favourites”, he continued.

“i have been dead set of revenge ever since the rumble and nothing is going to get in my way”, then suddenly he was cut off by jimmy uso’s music as the man appeared down the bottom of the ramp, earning a huge pop from the crowd. drew was about to continue when jimmy held up a finger to his lips shhhing him. then la knight’s music played and the megastar arrived at jimmy’s side.

“what are you two doing here, i beat both of you. you have no place here”, drew spoke harshly.

“well you may have beaten both of us but neither us want you to win”, jimmy started

“we have our money on a different horse, a horse that actually has skill and not just rage”, la knight finished a smirk on his lips as damian priest’s music echoed through the stadium and the man entered.

“they might not be in the match but i am”, damian priest’s low voice echoed through the mic, “and I have some punishing to do”

“do you really think a conversation with you and your war dogs is going to throw me off my game? are you really that stupid”, drew spoke laughing at the man’s attempt but damian simply shook his head.

“you are difficult person to get information on drew, with the likes of rollins and punk I can just bring up their families and get under their skin. but not you. it really got me thinking. but then i remembered we have a friend in common and i invited them to toronto to watch me destroy you”

“no one you bring here could throw me off my ga-“, drew couldn’t even finish his sentence when your music began to play, a song that he had not heard in four whole years and the wind was knocked right out of him.

the crowd went fucking mental when they saw you walk to damian’s side, you had been a fan favourite during your time in the company, with many calling you a modern day aj lee. they loved you and they still did.

drew could not believe it, the woman that had left his life just as he had been falling in love with her was at the top of the ring eyes trained on him, a light smile on her lips, but it didn’t reach her eyes and that worried the man slightly, maybe you weren’t ready to be back, maybe you didn’t want to see him. His mind was racing and his face was blank as he looked straight at you.

“what’s wrong bro you look like you have seen a ghost”, jimmy chuckled as he looked at drew.

“y/n is here to just make sure that you aren’t all talk, you say that you are going to win the chamber no matter what, she is just here to show the world that you are a liar”, la spoke his hand resting on your shoulder.

“you’ve made this personal”, drew spat out

“this has always been personal, you forgot that because you have not had anyone you care about in the wings for four years”, damian shot back.

then you finally lifted the mic up to your lips, “see you tomorrow drew”, the lights went out in the stadium and you and the three man had disappeared leaving drew along in the ring dumbfounded.

∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•∘

“holy shit y/n I did not know the crowd could even get that loud”, jon spoke squeezing your shoulder making you laugh, “I’m so glad you are back”, he spoke as he walked back stage with you.

“i’m glad to be back”

the next few moments were a blur with superstars that did not know of your return running over to give you a hug and welcome you back into the company and you were smiling, properly this time. maybe you had been worried for nothing, maybe you were exactly where you belonged, surrounded by people that loved you and wanted the best for you.

eventually you manged to escape the crowd of people that had surrounded you, heading down to your dressing room, pulling your hair out of it’s high pony as you walked, opening the door as your hair fell over your shoulders, finally free.

what you had not been expecting had been to see drew stood in the room, eyes locked on the door arms crossed over his chest.

you froze eyes looking at the man, daring him to do something, daring him to shout at you for ambushing him without warning, expecting anger from the large man in front of you. but instead his gaze softened, eyes became warned as he closed the distance between you his arms welcoming you into an all too familiar hug that you melted into. Drew kept his arms around you, holding you close as if you would disappear if he let go of you. he then leant down to your ear lips barely centimetres away from your skin.

“we have a lot to talk about”

[xylianasblog]

miles Quaritch smut story please heheh

The scent of you.

Pairings: Quaritch x FemHuman Reader

Summary: They say the senses are the gateway to the memory.

Warnings: MDNI, aged gap, Young reader/older reader, human Quaritch/avatar Quaritch, p in v, time skip, size difference, tummy bulge, dirty talk, if I missed anything I’m sorry.

꒦꒷❀꒷꒦❀✿❀꒦꒷❀꒷꒦MDNI꒦꒷❀꒷꒦❀✿❀꒦꒷❀꒷꒦

Quaritch groaned as he buried himself balls deep into the tight cunt he was fucking into. For such an old man he still knew how to use his body to a woman’s liking, it didn’t matter that said woman was 30 years younger than him.

You had become his favorite fuck, so lively and young you made him feel things he wasn’t supposed to feel. Yet the one thing that drew him in was the smell of you.

He enjoyed burying his face into your neck as he breathed in your scent, the soft hint of vanilla brought him a sense of comfort. The overwhelming smell of the fresh dew drops on the leaves in the morning as the sun begins to rise made him incredibly horny.

The soft hints of vanilla mixed nicely with the heady musky scent of your arousal. Calling to him reminding him of what it was like to be young.

He lost himself in the feel of your wet cunt gripping onto his cock, his mind focused on the smell of you surrounding him. Invading all of his senses, “Fuck sweetheart, this tight little cunt of yours takes me too fucking well.” He praises your cunt as he continues with his deep yet hard thrust. “Taking me like it was made for me.”

He groans loudly against your neck, his hands gripping onto your thighs as he pushes them apart more. “Who knew such a pretty little bitch would make the perfect slut for my cock.”

He enjoyed the way his treatment on your body and the words he slurred in a pleasurable haze caused your body to respond in magnificent ways. Needy you were, compliant, most importantly in these moments you were only his. He’d never outright say that though, telling himself he just enjoyed the way your pussy clung greedily to his cock.

“You look pathetic, taking this old man’s cock like this.” He grunted loudly through clenched teeth, hold on your thighs grew tighter as he felt his release closing in. “But you take it so well.. my perfect little cocksleeve.” He declared as he released deep inside of you, forcing your own orgasm as ropes of his seed coated your insides.

After a moment he laid there simply breathing in your scent, surrounding himself in the comfort your body provided. He’d be off soon, in 2 hours exact, to go off and fight Jake sully. He wasn’t sure if he’d be back, wasn’t even sure if he’d live but one thing for sure was that if he did die his last moments of life wanted to be basking in the feeling of you, even if it is fleeting.

꒦꒷❀꒷꒦༻❀✿❀༺꒦꒷❀꒷꒦༻❀✿❀༺ ꒦꒷❀꒷꒦

The fight has begun, his soldiers dying, falling left and right. There’s not much one can do when you’re a measly human in a world that wasn’t meant for you.

Fighting with Jake has been a little easy for Quaritch, granted the amp suit helped a lot, but when someone brings arrows to a knife fight you’re bound to die.

Quaritch knew the saying all too well “Your life flashes before your eyes.” He just never thought he himself would ever get to experience it. All the fucked up things he’s done in his life whether by his own free will or orders from his life as a marine he probably deserved this painful death. The difficulty of breathing stung his very lungs with each shallow breath he could breathe. His blood felt like it was on fire tiny, little needles digging into every inch of his skin. Gathering as much air into his body as he could Quaritch was forced to watch as his life played bit by bit but his favorite was finding comfort in all things that you offered him.

꒦꒷❀꒷꒦༻❀✿❀༺꒦꒷❀꒷꒦༻❀✿❀༺ ꒦꒷❀꒷꒦

Dying to the hands of an ex marine and his blue cat woman was one thing. Being brought back as the very thing you detest is another.

New senses, conflicting feelings. What more was there to being a stranger in a body that was never meant for to be yours? Quaritch struggled making sense of it all. His now blue skin, stronger build, so many sounds, so many new tastes. For fucks sake the irritation he felt from his tail alone.

Endless training in a foreign body, but at least he could freely breathe the out when he went out.

The orders were simple, scope out the area, find Sully and his home. Kill them all. Yet once again things don’t go as planned.

Having hostages weren’t about of the plan, having one that was his human son and another that was his lover definitely wasn’t apart of any known plan.

The boys limp body in his corporals arms and your tense body, eyes trained on Quaritch. He could feel your stare, the way it burned into his very soul. His eyes found yours as he watched the way your body heaved with each breath you took. Your small body struggling to break free of the restraints as you fight to get to the teenage boy. Quaritch could hear the way your breath hitched as he pinned you with his stare, how you pressed your thighs together in such a subtle way that he would have missed it had he not been staring you down.

The moment you were on the scorpion you rushed over to an unconscious spider, holding his body tight against yours protectively, yet Quaritch said nothing as he watched. His heart feeling the familiar ache. Family, his family.

When Quaritch finally stepped into your holding room he was overcome with the smell of you, every inch of the room was coated in your scent. His ears perked up, tail going rigid just as the corners of his lip twitched. Quaritch stared down at your small frame, everything looked exactly the same except you were older. Much older than he is in this new body.

Quaritch watched the way you eyed his body, your own fingers fiddling around. You were nervous that much was sure but was it because you were wet at the sight of his new body? He was different now, younger, stronger, blue, and he was no stranger to your fascination with the Na’vi and now that he was like them; as close to being like them as he could be he understood your interest was peaked.

Crouching down before you he let his eyes roam over your body, thick and full, plump just as your features had aged gracefully every part of you seemed to age well. He closed his eyes as his mind was overwhelmed with memories of you, so many memories.

Your scent once again clouding his senses, overwhelming him with every bit of you. He reached forward grabbing ahold of your chin between his big fingers, his hold gentle but firm, with that your body reacted on its own, a shudder racking through you despite doing your best to hold it back. “Well well if it isn’t that sweet young thing i use ta fuck.” He continued to inspect you, noticing everything about you.

You had finally seemed to be doing the same, eyeing him. Observing him for this moment, your brows furrowed and your lips turned up into a frown until you heard him speak. “Ya ain’t aged a bit, and ya still smell the same like fresh dew drops in the summer,” he leaned forward burying his face into your neck. “The same soft hints of vanilla…” he let a purr rumble deep within him.

You let out a soft hum as you felt his nose rubbing along your neck, Quaritch taking in deep inhales of your scent. Your body reacted to having him so close, this new him to be exact. His large hands maneuvering your body to his will. At your new position in his lap you can feel his cock tightening in his pants as the memories danced around him, he grunted moving you down as he continued to rock slowly, his length now grinding against your cloth covered ass. “Fuck… there’s no way I got hard like some high schooler who’s just got his dick wet.” The sound of your soft laugh had Quaritch groaning slightly. “Mmm fuck, how badly I need this pussy.”

He could tell by the way your breathing changed and the heightened smell of your arousal that you missed this, you miss him fucking away at your tight cunt. He took note of how you didn’t fight back, never even tried to push him away.

You both eyed on one another as he undressed your body, his hands touching and kneading at the your breast. Large hands pinching and rubbing your perky nipples, soft moans falling from your lips as he continued to touch you. As his hands slide down your stomach, touching and feeling every inch of you in a new light. Quaritch seemed to be mesmerized nothing could prepare him for the overwhelming smell of you the moment he pulled your panties off.

Everything that was concealed was now revealed to him, his cock grew tighter in his restraints, precum leaking through the fabric. He needed to be inside you and he needed it soon, but he held back. You quirked around, whimpering as he slide one of his thick fingers inside your sopping wet entrance. Your body reacting as if he was never dead, as if this wasn’t a new version of himself before you. His fingers working their magic as they stretched you out, working your pussy in his own favor. He knew how to force those orgasms from your body.

As he pulled his drenched fingers from your cunt you whimpered, watching as he licked your juices off his fingers. Your brows pinched together as you watched him undo his pants finally freeing himself from his confines, his cock springing free. The tip slick with precum that dribbled from slit, such a mouthwatering sight for you just as it always had been. His thick girthy cock ready to fuck away at your human cunt.

As he aligned himself with your entranced he slowly worked his way inside. He watched as he eased inch by inch inside, the sight of your pussy swallowing him. His hands on your thighs as he held your legs open, your hands grabbing at his fingers as you tried to steady yourself.

Since his death you’ve never been with another not even after the birth of your son, Spider. Quaritch was the only man you’ve given yourself too and now was no different. Your body was already pushed over the limit of orgasms but this wasn’t like anything else, the burn of the stretch he was putting your pussy through.

“Fuck.. you’re so tight..” he forced out a grunt as he eased himself further into your heat. Once he was all the way inside, he ran his fingers over the bulge, seeing just how snug his cock was inside you. “Shit… you did so good.. taking all of me in this tiny body of yours.” Quaritch tilted his head as his ears turned up, eyes clouded with lust as he held back. “Mother of my son and this damn cunt is still s’tight.”

His words had your body shuddering, pussy clamping down tighter. “This body of yours.. is new to sex… your young virgin dick won’t last.” The unsuspected squeezing had Quaritch bucking forward just as your words were left grating his nerves. “Oh!” You cried out, the sensation overwhelming in every sense of the word. “Fuck me..” you choked out.

His grip on your thighs tightened as he pulled back only to push back in, each thrust insight your tight heat had his mind going numb. Your words played in his head, he wouldn’t last long. You felt so good wrapped around him, just as good as you felt back when he was human. “Fuck.. I don’t think I can let you go again.” Despite your cries of pleasure his words struck a nerve, Quaritch was far too gone.

Lost in the scent of you, his favorite smell, his Ike favorite memory.

He leaned forward, his body shielding yours from the word as he nuzzled his face back into your neck. Breathing in deeply, now that his sense of smell was better he got to smell every scent you had. Now mixed in with the woodsy tones of Pandora.

He couldn’t help the small grunt as he tipped over the edge of his orgasm, it left his body shuddering. Your tiny frame shook underneath him as he finished inside you the overflowing seed seeped from your cunt. Dribbling around the floor beneath you. “Still my favorite cunt to fuck.”

꒦꒷❀꒷꒦༻❀✿❀༺꒦꒷❀꒷꒦༻❀✿❀༺ ꒦꒷❀꒷꒦

Taglist: @xstarsdiary @etherial-moon-blog @neteyamyawne @torukmaktoskxawng @quicktosimp @anemonelovesfiction @erenjaegerwifee @cardi-bre91 @maniisplxnet @pandoraslxna @rivatar @thepeonysbackup @tallulah477 @eywaite @luvv4j4ybe11

[birbmotherpigeon]

HERMIT UNIVERSITY socmed

PART 7

Mumbo was doing his best to type and walk at the same time. He had gotten extremely bored when his arms started aching. He was carrying spare parts for Tangos robot to the workshop. His own little Grumbot was already waiting there. He picked up his speed when he entered the building. He was just a few steps away from his corrodior when a big bumbling man turned the corner and they crash into eachother.

Mumbo being a long lean thing fell like a puppet who's strings released on impact. The bigger man didn't seem to keep himself up much better. The bigger man landed on his bum, Mumbo landing face first in his lap.

"Woah there! you okay buddy?" The man asked from above Mumbo, who froze absolutely mortified. Slowly he turned around in the lap of the strange man looking straight up at the *Damn* at the very handsome man.

"Y-yeah I....I okay, Me, buddy is" He managed to get out. He was screaming at himself internally. This was the guy! The shirtless man form the other day. The guy with the cat who moved into Mumbos old dorm. Hadn't he been so mortified he would've wanted to say something to the very handsome young man. Instead he slowly rose to his feet. started to pick up his robotic pieces before he excused himself.

"I'm terribly sorry, I need to go" He said, He didn't even have the time to reflect over the other man's crutches. Nor his extremely confused expression as Mumbo rushed off.

Scar, the mystery handsome man in question, slowly got back on his feet. He saw a metallic mustache laying on the floor as he rose...He picked it up. Looked back one last time before shrugging and continuing his own way.

Gem sighed. She knew her friend was just being dramatic. As she arrives to the workshop so does Tango and Impulse.

"GEMSTONE! what you doing here?" Impulse calls to his roommate as he spots her. She smiles with a shrug.

"Mumbo had a mortifying wet cat moment" She explained and before anyone could say anything more Mumbo was already standing in the doorway to the workshop looking like said wet cat.

"Gem :(" he whined, she had to force down a laugh as to not laugh in her friends face. Tango was not so talented but he got a swift elbow in the side from Impulse.

"I couldn't even say I was okay!!" He whined sitting down with a deep sigh. "Why can't I just be silly with the dorm thing!! why do I have to be socially awkward too" He continued to vent his heart out. He did lose her though

"Excuse me? what? dorm thing?" She repeated, Mumbos face dropped again as he thought about it. He groaned annoyed.

"Yeah I forgot to sign up for a dorm" He explained exasperated

"Well where did you sleep this night?" Gem pressed

"Tango let me crash at their dorm. I'm gonna stay there until there's a vacancy" Mumbo continued his explanation. Gem felt a dread in her stomach

"Ooooh, Mumbo you can't do that they're gonna start doing impromptu dorm checks next week" She said as carefully as she could without freaking Mumbo out even more.

"WHAT" she shouted it hadn't helped. Gem walked up to the tall man. Impulse and Tango followed suit.

"Well yeah they're checking to make sure no one unwanted is at uni" She explained Mumbos shoulders dropped aswell now.

"I guess that makes sense but" He sighed not finishing his thoughts.

"Gem don't tell on us please" Impulse suddenly said, Gem must've had made some face that made him worry. She shaked her head

"Of course not!" She said, she would never rat out her friend.

"Good, and Mumbo we'll just always be ready to hide you until you have your own dorm. Can't be too hard" Tango finished in Impulse stead. Gem was tempted to argue but Mumbo seemed to be genuinely on the werge of tears if she'd say something more.

"Y-yeah!" She let out instead. "a-and if you need to duck out I guess you can always come over to the trout dorm" She added on before thinking properly, she glanced at Impulse who simply nodded. It did seem to help though, Mumbo seemed far less sad.

Previous Part:

[livfastdieyoung69]

sighh thinking ab frank castle w a fellow vigilante who has similar vibes to black cat, deadpool, etc. (basically just a catty bitch with a tragic backstory, what’s new)

franks just enjoying his coffee at the same shitty diner he always goes to, watching the world go past for his ten minutes of daily peace when she plops down in the booth across from him.

he’s not really sure what’s going on, or who this lady (this smoking hot lady, holy shit) is, so he just takes another sip and raises his eyebrows at her.

a manicured nail, sharp and black, points at him.

“i know who you are.”

“‘scuse me?” he sets the ceramic cup on the table, leaning back against the sticky booth.

“you’re that, uh,” her finger is waving around at his chest and he can smell the mint of her gum. “that skull guy.” when she finally conjures her answer her hand falls flat on the table.

“listen, lady,” he’s trying to deflect, but he’s looking around the place in an urgency that could only mean she’s right. “i don’t know who the hell you are-“

her hand comes back up, palm to his face. “don’t worry. i totally stand for it. very overthrowing the government chic.”

now he’s even more confused, but before he can tell this lady to piss off, the place is raining with bullets and she’s diving under the table like she’s done this before. he’s next to the table, grumbling cuss words under his breath. seconds away from pulling himself together and dealing with this shit, she grabs his jacket and tugs herself forwards with it.

“are they here for you or me?” he stutters out an answer of how the hell is he supposed to know, because who the hell is this woman and why would anyone be after her? “i have every government agency you could possibly imagine on my ass, and then like, two more. been a crazy week!”

he pulls her up from under the table, and basically yells in her ear to get to the kitchen. she’s way too calm to be unexperienced in this, army crawling in a pair of heels.

“these pants were way too expensive for this,” she complains but when that absolute hunk of a man lands himself directly over top of her and wraps an arm around her, forcing her to go faster, all further complaints disappear.

he can feel her pulse on her wrist when he tugs her up again before they tumble out the back door, and thinks maybe the whole calm thing is a hoax. her heart is beating out of her chest, and she hasn’t even broke a sweat.

they book it to his shitty stolen car and frank drives as fast as he can without being too suspicious.

“you alright?” he asks her, finally breaking the silence half way out of the city.

“its whatever.” she rolls her eyes and diminishes it with a wave of her hand. “as long as i can get this scuff off my damn shoes. why, i seem new at this or somethin?”

“pulse felt like your heart was about to jump out your throat.”

“oh, yeah, its just like that all the time. i’m a failed science experiment, basically. that’s why the government wants me. well- not really, the people that experimented on me also made me kill a bunch of people, but like…same-difference.” she shrugs and continues picking at her nails like it means nothing.

this lady just keeps getting more and more baffling, so he just keeps his mouth shut and lets the radio play a little louder.

he’s been stuck with her ever since.

[snailsgoingdowntown]

Small thing I wanted to write, might come out with an actual fic later. For now enjoy! ♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Warnings: blood.

Minors dni

====

Dion who somehow gets transported into our world.

Imagine one day you're walking in the rain and you see this 6'ft tall man (cuz I say so, have you seen how big he is????) Sitting on a park bench or the bus stop or something idk and he just reminds you of one of those "take me home" cats in a box cliche.

But he's a very scary looking cat.

And wait, are his eyes red?

Hold up, is that a fucking sword?

Wait is that blood?

Oh, he's probably just a cosplayer, you tell yourself, but you're still glued in place.

Something tells you not to cross his path. Even if that's the way you need to go.

And as luck would have it, the very scary cat turns his head to look at you, and his crimson hues look jaded and confused. When he blinks it's weird, and it's only now do you notice the dark circles under his eyes. Very deep and very dark, it doesn't look like makeup.

With his sword on his lap, he stands, taking it in one hand. You can't help but take a few steps backwards, umbrella threatening to fall from your hands. When he strides towards you, you become frozen.

Sure, he's handsome at closer inspection. But the way he looks at you, the way he towers over you, you feel like a mouse in the jaws of a lion.

His eyes scan over your form, confusion clear in the scarlet that reminds you of blood. They look too genuine to be contacts.

"You..., " your body jolts, not expecting him to sound so....

"Tell me where we are. And why are you dressed like that?"

... Tired. Tired and demanding, not giving you room to interject.

If he thinks he can order you around than -

"Oh, uh, I'm not from around here. Best of luck to you, sir."

- you can just lie and flee. Like how your mom did -

"Stop." He physically stops you with his body, and you take another step back. He tries again and this time you cave.

When you tell him, his eyes widen before they return to their natural state.

"Where is that? And what's with..." He gestures to your work uniform.

Oh boy. He's either fucking with you or he hit his head or something.

[advluv4life]

1 and 8 for the tgr ask game?

-@aftgphoenix

I was really excited to get this! I just had work and homework and chores and errands but I’ve been so excited to talk about it! I also had to scroll through the book because there’s so many scenes for each of these questions. & I don’t trust myself not to pick and then just change my mind in five minutes, so I chose a few/couple of scenes that I love/can’t get out of my mind for both (& there’s more, like the entire book, but I tried to not go on too long).

1 - What is your favorite part?

Rhemann decking Zane. Easily. Handsdown. I’ve said it before, but if I wasn’t already in love with Rhemann prior to this moment…I would’ve fallen so hard.

Also, following that moment, when Jean tells Jeremy all the things he doesn’t want; he doesn’t want Jeremy to be like Zane, doesn't want Coach to be like Tetsuji, doesn’t want to teach Tanner contrition, doesn’t want to harm Cat even if he thinks she should have performed better, doesn’t want to go back to how things were before… “We will do it your way and we will win anyway.” Oh, my heart. I was in tears for multiple reasons but this moment healed a little bit of my heart. Seeing his progress and growth, and hearing him express things he’s come to realize over the course of both books. Oh my god, I was so proud of him. I am so proud of him.

Honorable Mentions:

The part after the banquet where Jean reflects on hearing people talk well about him had me crying tears of happiness.

Jean telling their opponent to have a winning day still makes me scream (and also the Trojans reactions lol)

When Jean tells his therapist that he deserves to get better (*tears*)

Jean’s reaction when Jeremy called Faser his ‘partner’. I think that protective!Jean is right up there with protective!Andrew for me.

The stairwell scene with Jean and Jeremy. I held my breath. Every time Jean grabs hold of his chin, or they demand the other look at them- and they can't help but listen. And it's as if they have no room for people in their peripherals when they are together.

Jeremy and Jean in the hotel room! Jean leaning over him, the blatant flirting, the painful confession of Jeremy's history-

Kevin and Jean’s interactions overall: “I hate you.” “Sometimes you do. I don’t care.” // “How long do you think you can hold [Queen of the U.S. Court] when you’re drinking poison?” “Always, the last person who tried to take it from me died. Checkmate.”

Literally probably any part where Jean mentions/quotes Neil (I’m very much biased here, I was craving Neil before the book’s release and I obsessed over his every mention, I’m not going to apologize, I’m already crossing my fingers that with the trial in the next book Neil and Jean will have wayyyyyyy more interactions). Some moments:

When Zane told him to admit he would have rather had Neil as a partner and Jean couldn’t deny it.

When he recalled Neil brushing off his warning about Ichirou in regard to Andrew “I’m sure he knows." as he comes to terms with his attraction to men not being wrong like Riko made it out to be.

Andrew and Jean’s conversation outside the interview.

“Pop. How easily these monsters die in the end.” quoting.

“It was Rhemann’s voice in his head, Rhemann’s and his friends’ and Neil’s, drowning out his miserable thoughts and excuses with unrelenting force.” -LITERAL crying as I type it now because this is definitely in my top 3 favorite quotes in the book. Just the fact that Neil is included in the list of people who he thinks of/hears as he puts his own wellbeing first moves my soul.

Okay, I’ll stop lol. I could go on and on and on.

8 - Which scene is living rent-free in your head?

This doubles as a favorite scene (of course):

Jean extending his list by adding ‘Fireworks’ but mainly him giving Wymack and Rhemann the title of ‘Fathers’. 

Jean remembering how he was told he was one of Rhemann’s kids and taking comfort in that- him being able to take comfort in that despite his own father being an awful awful man was just a lot to me. I think about it a lot. I think about and compare it to Kevin not calling Wymack ‘Dad’- even in private and then I think about how much Jean has faced and been forced to face and if that says anything about either one of them in regard to their progress and development after leaving the Nest- but I don’t want to get into that because people move at their own pace and they’re both safe now and in environments where they are loved and appreciated and can focus on themselves and things that make them happy. But I think about it a lot (‘a lot a lot a lot’ lol).

And Wymack calling him when he found out about the fire! My whole heart. I really didn’t expect that, maybe Renee or Kevin- possibly Neil (unlikely due to injury) but I didn’t expect Wymack and…I love him.

Another scene, Honorable Mention lol, for different reasons that isn’t as sweet and heartwarming- but where I had to pause and I also continuously mull over it, is when Jean is fighting Zane and Lucas comes in and instead of Zane continuing going after Jean he makes Lucas his target because he looks so much like Grayson.

Like, Zane betrayed Jean. He turned Jean over to Grayson and turned his back on him and yet going after Grayson is still so strongly ingrained in him…And Jean knew he would go after Lucas in that moment… It doesn’t make me like Zane. But it adds to the weight and complexity of the Nest and the Ravens’ mental states because before this we really only saw how quick they were to turn on Jean- and Zane did but Jean still saved his life and there’s still a part of Zane that is protective of Jean (though it’s not anything trustworthy because of his previous betrayal)- Still hearing Zane go off about how being Jean’s partner meant so much to him (even if it was for selfish reasons) and when Jean goes off about how it was a lost cause regardless, both because of Riko’s/the Ravens’ dislike of Jean but also because of the fact that Zane himself stood in the way of Riko/Grayson, put so much more stuff into perspective in regards to their relationship and how strained yet vulnerable it was. Why it was awful but also why it meant so much to both of them. (Okay I’m going to cry, I’m going to stop now). This moment/scene/fight silenced me. I was so mad and so sad and so…smh.

[briskofscribe]

Lucas could tell he had in fact placed his foot in his mouth. He was well aware of how he felt about Brooke. She was the one that got away; she was his muse, the woman he thought about. And he assumed life wanted to grant him a wish by her stepping onto his porch earlier. But now he was starting to wonder. He was protecting himself; she was famous, she had a line of men waiting to woo her. And he was Lucas Scott a man of less then desired qualities for her. He was a writer that was on the best sellers list once. 

But he was practically failing on his own now. He wanted to appear cool, but it bit him in the ass now. “ Brooke..” He started. But how does he justify his last statement? How does he say the words that hung on his tongue? I love you, I’ve waited for you. Instead this game of cat and mouse was far more appealing to him. And as he sipped on his wine, he noted her sarcasm. She was hurt, I could tell she pretended not to care. But come on me in the city was for work, but i’d extend it for Brooke Davis any day. Lucas was a damn good writer but when it came to saying what he cared about to her; it he was failing big time. He had spooned up a few bites from his own dish, and he wore a gentle smile upon his lips. “ You know I’d come see you any day Brooke.. I just..” I thought being playful was our thing, but I also realized being vulnerable, being honest was scary even for a writer like myself, Brooke would never trust me given the history, so was I closing myself off to the idea? Maybe. But I also know I wrote a few good chapters to my next book because of Brooke, I was inspired by her; and how I felt. Warmth, the feeling of longing for another person to where I wondered.. Where does the story end? 

A meal to take home, I was quick to shake my head, because I didn’t want her meal. It would remind me she left, and I had to sip on my wine with ease. “ No.. can’t you stay a day longer?” i asked if I wasn't begging but it was an ask, because saying goodbye to Brooke Davis was one move I wasn’t prepared to make right now.

Continued.. Our story has just started

@blackbelttoshop

Flirtation; it had become easy when it came to Brooke. When she first hit on me back in high school I was more taken back and found myself speechless. Because she was the head cheerleader, she was gorgeous, any guy would be lucky to find her naked in the back of their car. But at the time I was a loner, I had been pushed onto the team because of Whitey, because he saw the potenial for myself career in basketball. The closest girl I’ve been near was Haley and let’s be honest in mind she didn’t count. She was my best friend even to this day. But Brooke she took my breath away; she had that smile that lit up the room. 

She had that humor that made you lose all your senses. Lucas never knew why she eyed him, or why she wanted to get under him, but she pulled me out of my shell, she got me from the awkward guy who offered a smile with hands in his pockets. And now he found it easy to level to her playing field. To be there with her; over the years he built the confidence. And he had to let a harmless laugh escape bare lips. Was she hitting on me now..? Of course it was harmless we barely saw each other over the years. This was the first time in how long? So point was I was playing my cards here; lowering a hand just for her. 

“ if you keep handing me compliments I doubt we’d make it that dinner, Davis.” A playful wink came from his features. Brooke Davis at dinner; handing out all the compliments to a guy like myself; I was feeling flattered. For a second I was almost speechless and felt like that school boy that sat dumb founded in my car; what can I Say? This girl had her way of taking my breath away. The topic of quickie; now it was all fun and games. I had pulled up to the familiar curb outside of Haley and Nathan’s place. The big party balloons were the key; the indication of where the party was. A soft smile landed upon my lips as I had slowly turned off the car. I heard the brunette; a quickie with another girl in my bed; now I wasn’t shy like I once was. I had slept with women since being back in tree hill from my book tours, from the offers in New York, but no one ever compared to one Brooke Davis, but I wanted to ruffle some feathers; which is why I sent a side eye in her direction as I spoke. “ And what if I do have another women waiting in my bed after this party? Does it bother you the famous Brooke Davis..? An arched brow lifted onto his features. That was his cue; he pushed the driver door open letting his shoes hit the pavement. The loud screams of young children could be heard. Hearing the clicking of the car doors; the male had rounded his old car to meet the female at the curb. He stopped by her; shoulder to shoulder. 

A smirk found its way to his lips, he had lowered his head enough until his lips were mare inches from her ear again. A hint of flirtation in his voice. “ You’ll know the signal, or you can just grab my hand and lead the way, I’m sure you’re already trying desperately to resist.” A smirk; a confidence in himself as quick as he said the words; Lucas had straighten up when he heard his name being called. Turning his back to the female he blue hues met Skills. “ Hey man look who I ran into..” Causal; as if we hadn’t just discussed wanting to scratch that itch of a quickie seconds ago.